


Symmetrical Bonds

by HyJackedYerFandom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Submissive Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, D/s themes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Harem, Mpreg, Multi, Multiple Partners, Slash, Wangsty, mildly dark, sub!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyJackedYerFandom/pseuds/HyJackedYerFandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magic is a strange and fantastical thing.  Magic created wizards, dragons, unicorns, goblins...  And the Nomarians.  However, fewer and fewer Nomarian Remissivos are being born and those that are, are sheltered and hidden away until their Ascension.  Harry is thrust helter skelter into the world of Dominante's, Appoggiare's and Remissivo's.  Not only is he the rare Remissivo, but he has to have a harem of men to mate with and he may not be 'Harry Potter' at all…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Won't Blame You

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. This is a work of parody, as defined by the Fair Use Doctrine. Any similarities, without satirical intent, to copyrighted characters, or individuals living or dead, are purely coincidental. This work has not been endorsed by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, or any of the other holding copyright or license to the Harry Potter books or movie. No connection is implied or should be inferred. This is not a commercial work. The author receives no financial gain from its production or distribution. It is available without charge. This work is intended for adults only. Some of the content of this fiction is graphically violent and/or sexual. It is intended for readers age eighteen or over and anyone underage is prohibited from reading.

July 29th 10:29pm  
Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey

No one knew that Harry Potter was dying. It was said that the nice people who lived at Number 4 Privet Drive were simply taking care of their ill nephew. Everyone knew that he’d been a trouble maker and a miscreant, but about two months ago, the boy had returned from his school and everyone who was anyone could see the marked differences in the troublesome boy.

Once upon a time he’d been able to walk fast into the house; just as well, he should so he didn’t shame his family anymore than he already had. When he’d arrived home, it seemed as if he had to struggle for every step. His head hung low and he looked no one in the eye, he didn’t lift his head for anything. As time had gone on, people so used to seeing the dark haired boy outside weeding the lawn and watering the backyard were surprised that nothing of the sort had happened. When asked about it, Petunia Dursley informed them that Harry was simply ill.

No one bothered to look into it. After all, so long as the hoodlum was inside, unable to terrorize their children, they didn’t care. 

Dudley, in a surprising move, had begun to stay inside as well. Petunia did all the shopping, and the chores to the best of her abilities. No longer was the house perfectly clean so much as decently clean. No one saw what happened when Vernon Dursley, patriarch of the Dursley family, father of Dudley, husband of Petunia and Uncle to Harry Potter, came home and shut the front door.

They’d be surprised to find out that the ghosts of the house didn’t just reside in Dudley’s second bedroom.

Dudley Dursley, having grown a few inches in his time in Smeltings and his diet paying off, waited until his mother’s cries had stopped echoing in the house, and his father’s snores reverberated in the halls, before climbing out of bed and going to his cousin’s bedroom. Harry hadn’t been fed yet, not because they’d forgotten or had punished him, but because Vernon had begun to take what he called ‘inventory’ of all perishable items and weighing and measuring leftovers.

Silently unlocking the door, Dudley stepped into the room and stared at the creature that his cousin had become with hate and pity and despair. Hate that his father had reduced his once bright cousin into a cowering, fearful animal that crouched in the corner of the small twin sized bed. Pity because there appeared little to nothing they could do about it, no matter how much his and his mother’s hearts had changed and matured over this past year. And despair because he knew, perfectly well that if something didn’t change, if something didn’t give, Harry Potter wouldn’t live past his sixteenth birthday.

“Harry?” He whispered, knowing that his cousin could hear him despite the noise his father’s snores made. “Are you hungry?”

Verdant eyes, wide with confusion, fear and pain stared at Dudley, making him flinch slightly. Bruises marred the pale skin of his cousin’s face and body, and he cradled his left arm against his torso like a broken doll. His eyes were lighter than they had been when he’d gotten back from his school, as if death was simply waiting for him to shut them to take the color away. A vicious cut split both his lips right down the middle, from Dudley’s father’s fists.

He was mostly naked. Dudley had snuck him a few shirts that he could spare, in an effort to cover his body and try to hide the wounds. Since he was so much bigger than Harry, Vernon had no interest in pounding on his ‘precious Dudders’. But that left his mother free and clear, particularly since Vernon had gotten the letter from the headmaster informing them about Sirius Black’s demise and plenty of information on how to handle Harry. Petunia had voiced concern that Harry’s chores were too many, and that they should let him grieve for once.

And all hell broke loose in the Dursley House.

It was a sneaky war. Neither Dudley nor Petunia could fight in the open, so they aided Harry in secret as best they could. Dudley had taken to using his allowance on foodstuffs he could give Harry when he could, and Petunia had taken over the chores when it became obvious that Harry physically couldn’t. While before this past year Dudley or Petunia would have raged and ranted about Harry being unable to do chores or work or cook, now they simply let Harry be.

Not that it seemed to help the dark haired boy.

He’d withdrawn into himself, not speaking to anyone, and only making noise when he was afraid or in pain – which was whenever Vernon was home. Petunia had explained to Dudley that Harry was blaming himself for his godfather’s death, and probably blaming himself for anything else that happened in the wizard world. She said she’d been trying to contact Harry’s Headmaster trying to get the older man’s help and had heard nothing.

When Vernon had found out (which neither Petunia or Dudley knew how that had happened) he’d begun to take his ire out on his wife and Harry. Dudley had begun to try and find ways out of the hell that had become his home and for once in his life he’d begun to see Harry as the way out, rather than the blame.

So much had changed, even before Harry had come home. Vernon had lost his job, he’d taken to drinking away his days at the local bar. While Dudley had been at school, he’d begun beating on Petunia for minor problems. It was as if the man had been freed from any sanity. It was only when Harry had come home that the violence in the house had become deadly.

“Are you hungry, Harry?” Dudley asked again, watching those eyes flit around the room – looking for an enemy that was far too real.

When the dark head shook in negation, Dudley sighed softly. Harry had been refusing food for too long and it showed. Guilt sat heavy in his belly as he watched his cousin. Something, something had to be done. It was three days before Harry’s 16th birthday. Dudley knew that his father had something ‘special’ planned. And all of them were going to pay for it.

“Harry…Harry listen to me.” Dudley whispered, moving closer and sitting on the edge of the ratty bed. Those pale green eyes lifted and stared at Dudley without emotion. “I need you to tell me how to help you. You tell me, and I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to get you out of here.”

Something bright kindled in those green eyes for a moment as he stared at Dudley and the sandy-haired boy nodded.

“I’ll do whatever you need, but you’ve got to promise me something.”

The dark head cocked, curiosity on his face. It…hurt something within Dudley to see the acceptance in Harry, that nobody would do something for Harry without wanting something in return. It disgusted him, now that he knew everything that Harry had gone through.

“You’ve got to promise to take me and mum with you, Harry. I’ll get you out of here, do what you want me to do to get you out of here, but you can’t leave me and mum behind with him.”

Surprise danced in the green eyes and it was a tense, breathless few moments before Harry nodded and Dudley smiled brightly at his cousin. A shy, soft glow entered the bruised and battered face of Harry.

“Now you have to tell me. What do you need me to do?”

For another moment, Dudley thought he wasn’t going to answer. Indecision floated in light green eyes and his lips split, making the vicious cut that split the full mouth open a little, Hurtbloodying in the effort to chew at the dead skin on his lower lip. But then his lips moved and Dudley’s world rocked once again.

“My father…I need…my father.”

Dudley stared at Harry and feared the worst. Had Vernon finally managed to knock the sanity out of Harry? Fear was an icy coat lining his belly and it put a metallic taste in his mouth.

“Harry, your father…he’s dead.”

Pain flashed across the pale face before he adamantly shook his head.

“Sev’us…Snape.” 

All movement, all breath and all noise seemed to stop at the name. Dudley knew that name – his mother had told him about a Severus Snape that had grown up down the way from her and Lily. He also knew the stories about Severus Snape that had taught Harry in school, how he had seemingly terrorized the dark haired boy, and now Harry was saying that he was Harry’s father? How was that even possible?

“Need…Sev’us…” Tears filled Harry’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks in the most heartbreaking manner. He didn’t shake, he didn’t sob. The tears simply fell down his face silently. Those split full lips didn’t tremble, nothing gave way to his sorrow. “Need…father…”

“Alright, Harry.” Dudley said softly. “I’ll find a way to get a hold of Severus Snape.”

“Not…not Dumbledore.”

“No…not Dumbledore.” Dudley said, his voice icy and cold.

“Betray…betrayed us all.”

“Not just that Harry…” Dudley watched as Harry stared at him, completely unaware it seemed of his next words. “He betrayed you. He’s …evil, Harry.”

Now his lips trembled, and those green eyes flooded as he cried.

“Know…I know…”

Dudley watched his cousin crumble under the weight of betrayal and vowed revenge. This man, this ‘Headmaster’ had sold Harry to the devil in order to win his war. He’d wanted Harry malleable and moldable into the perfect weapon, dependent on the Headmaster for the simplest of instructions. How could a man so evil be considered so good?

“I’ll find him, Harry,” Dudley said softly as he got to his feet. “I’ll find Severus Snape. And we’ll all be safe.”

With that, Dudley snuck out of the room and locked it behind him – it wouldn’t do to let his father know that Dudley had been in the “freak’s room” and then leave it unlocked. 

Not that Harry could escape in the first place.


	2. Don't Let Them Know We're Coming

_July 30th 8:44am_  
 _Number 4 Privet Drive_  


The next morning, Dudley waited until his mother was awake and moving downstairs before following her down. His father had already left after bellowing about the quality of the food and how the freak had chores needing to be done. He sat down at the kitchen table and watched his mother.

Once upon a time, Petunia Dursley had been a strong, dominant woman, who brooked no fools. She had loved her son openly and sweetly, and had cared about her sisters’ son – until the first flash of magic in their house. She’d had to hide it, and had done her best until her husband had seen Harry’s freakishness. Then she’d had to become hard and mean in order to survive. Throughout the years, that had become her shield, her shell. 

When Harry had gone off to Hogwarts, she’d rejoiced and mourned at the same time. However, this year the toll of dealing with an abusive husband, and now taking care of a mentally and emotionally scarred nephew that she wasn’t supposed to protect and care for in the first place, had pressured her into folding under the weight of responsibility.

Now, Dudley could see the physical signs of the abuse, where before his Uncle had been careful in leaving no traces. Not only were people able to see the marks, but it was in the way she held herself, the look in her eyes. He watched his mother, the woman who smothered him in love and attention and affection. The woman who enforced his diet for his own benefit, despite his squalling. The woman who loved him so very much. The woman who had done her best to protect his cousin from Vernon and from time to time Dudley himself.

“Mum.”

Petunia turned to face her son, a question in her bloodshot eyes. She looked more pale and drawn than before. She appeared to have been eating just as much as Harry had been, which was hardly at all.

“Yes, dear?”

“I need to get into contact with Severus Snape.”

Petunia stared at her son in growing horror. Her eyes went wide, her pinched mouth dropped open as she fought to understand her son.

“Dudley…what-“

“We need to get Harry out of here, and to do that we need Severus Snape. If we help him, Mum, he’ll get us out of here. He said he needs Severus Snape.” Dudley said firmly and got to his feet. “How do we get in contact with him?”

Petunia stuttered as one hand lifted to her throat in shock and fear, her dark eyes wide as she shook her head back and forth.

“Mum…” He said gently, moving forward and putting his wide hands on her forearms. “We need Severus Snape.”

“But he works for Dumbledore…”

“I don’t think he does anymore…Harry knows that Dumbledore betrayed him. But he’s asking for Severus Snape.” He nodded firmly when Petunia shook her head again in confusion. “Yes. He is. And if we’re gunna survive this thing with Dad, then we need his help. Him and Harry.”

“Owl…you need an owl or a …a fireplace.” Petunia trembled viciously as she spoke, her words stuttering in her anxiety. “B-but a fireplace…it’d be …m-monitored.”

“So we need Harry’s owl. Where is she?”

“S-s-shed…”

“I need you to get her, mum. Then, you and me are going to write a letter and send it to Mr. Snape.” He spoke firmly, calmly, his words even and gentle. It was the best way to handle his mother now, and while he hated to do it, to force her to do something that she was reluctant to do, he knew that it was going to be the only thing that saved them.

While Petunia went to gather Hedwig, who had been kept fed and alive merely for the gold that was passed from the Headmaster to Vernon to support his lifestyle now, Dudley thought on what he was going to say to the stranger he knew had to save them.

While he did that, he heard a noise coming from the stairs and looked up. There, Harry stood, staring at the room with empty eyes. Were his eyes a lighter green than they were last night? Dudley tried to remember, but for the life of him he just didn't know. One of those magic things, he supposed. Harry looked like a broken doll, even more so than the previous night. Dudley watched as, mechanically, the smaller boy moved towards the sink and began to wash the dishes, despite the broken arm that had to be causing excruciating pain with each movement.

“Harry…Harry, you don’t need to do that.” Dudley said, getting to his feet and moving toward him. “Mum wants to take care of that, Harry.”

Dull, light green eyes tracked over to him and didn’t acknowledge him or his words. He let himself be dragged away from the sink, however and sat down at the table. He frowned slightly at his larger cousin and seemed to ask a question without verbalizing it.

“We’re going to contact Severus Snape, Harry.” Dudley said softly, resting his hands on Harry’s narrow, thin shoulders. “Mum’s going to get Hedwig now, is there anything you want me to tell him?”

Pale, lifeless green eyes watched him absently, as if he were an interesting bug that had caught his attention. Then they blinked as if he’d just realized what Dudley had said.

“Yes. Yes.” Harry said, nodding hard enough that his hair fell in his eyes.

It was then that Dudley realized that his hair had grown – again. It was to his chin now and by the time that his father came home it would probably be to his shoulders again. And Vernon would want to chop it off. With a mental wince, Dudley pasted a smile on his face and nodded warmly at his cousin.

“Tell me what you want me to tell him, Harry.”

Again, it seemed to take a moment for him to process the words that Dudley was speaking, as if filtering them through some mental translator. Some nameless emotion welled in Harry’s eyes as he leaned forward, a thin, practically clawed hand gripped the sandy-haired boy’s arm tightly.

“Hurry.”

~~~

_July 30th 11:46am  
Spinners End_

Spinner’s End, while on the outside of his walls, looked dilapidated and practically condemned. Only those who carried direct invitation of the Head of the Prince family could see the wealth and comfort in its walls. To anyone else, it would look uninhabitable. The enchantment was so strong that if two people, one with direct invitation the other without, came into the home, neither would see each other until they left the property. It not only protected the wealth of the home and Prince name, but those that had invitation.

The walls were a warm cream color, which surprised even those close to Severus. Many thought that he’d prefer the dark tones of his dungeon habitat at Hogwarts, but in reality, it wasn’t the case. Though everything had an earthy tone, it was warm and comforting. The walls were lined with paintings of the Prince lineage, who spoke and smiled at those who passed.

Severus Snape, the last surviving Prince, sat at the head of an empty dining table of fourteen chairs, eating a hearty breakfast. It was only during the summer months that he could eat well balanced meals on a regular basis. More often than not, during the school year, he would catch a snack or two here and there throughout the day, and supplemented nutrition potions for the meals he skipped for various reasons. His black hair was silky and clean against his pale skin, no longer greasy from potion fumes, his skin clean and glowing with an inner light. He held the latest _Potente Potions Journal_ in one hand as he ate in an absent minded manner.

It was with great surprise that a house elf popped into existence at his elbow, holding a strange envelope out to him.

“Skippy be sorry, Master; dis letter be late, and owlses be waiting for reply.”

Severus sighed softly, certain that Albus Dumbledore had some errand to run or potion to brew. The old fool hardly left Severus alone during the summer hols, and while Severus could claim that the Dark Lord kept him busy or that he’d missed the owl, he could only do those things so often before the Headmaster cottoned on to what he was doing.

Frowning at the strange scrawl on the envelope, he simply opened the letter, frowning as a lock of dark hair fell from the folds of paper and landed on the tabletop. Turning his attention to the letter, his pale face lost its glow quickly, and flushed with anger. 

_Dear Mr. Severus Snape,_

_You don’t know me; at least, I don’t think you do. My name is Dudley Dursley, I’m Harry Potter’s cousin. He’s told me to write you for help, and to explain what’s going on._

_To be honest and blunt, my father is beating Harry and my mother to death. I think it has something to do with that Headmaster Dumbledore my dad gets money from every month, but I can’t prove it. My mum could, I think but I can’t. He’s been starving Harry, and whenever my mum or I try to sneak him food and get caught, my mum gets punished._

_When I asked Harry what to do, he told me to find you. I think my dad’s finally cracked something in Harry, because he keeps calling you his father. I know James Potter died when Harry was a baby, so I don’t know what else to do. We need help, sir. I know you and Harry aren’t always on the best terms, my mum’s told me the whole story about you two being at odds and why, but he’s asking for your help._

_If you don’t do something, Harry’s going to die before he can see his 16th birthday. I don’t know what, but my dad’s got something planned for his birthday and I think he’s going to kill him._

_Please, please Mr. Snape. Help us. Me and my mum need help. Harry needs help. When I asked Harry if he wanted to tell you anything, he only said one thing._

_“Hurry.”_

_Please. Please. I don’t know what to say but to beg for your help. I can’t protect them both alone anymore. I’m begging. I’ll do whatever you want just please help us. Harry’s asked me to put this lock of hair into the letter, so that you’ll know it’s actually him, I guess?_

_Dudley Dursley_  


  
So the brat wanted to try this trick did he? And roping his silly muggle family into his lies no doubt. Severus snatched the lock of hair from the table and whirled away from his brunch. He’d just have to show that impudent child why it was just not done to attempt these ludicrous lies and tales. He went to his potions laboratory in the stone basement and began the efficient motions of brewing. It was just so convenient for the brat to put his hair into the letter.

To prove it was him, bah!

He’d just have to use that silly thought against the brat. A simply Paternal potion would nip this in the bud and he’d bring the impudent child to Dumbledore to prove his insolence. Gritting his teeth in his anger, he brewed the simple potion quickly. Adding the final ingredient, a single lock of hair, and…

Wait, this was wrong. The potion should have turned black at the introduction of both his and the Potter brat’s hair. Instead the potion glowed brilliant red, which was absurd because…

That meant…

It was prudent for the boy to include a lock of hair because by the end of two hours, every strand of hair had been used in various potions. The final of which, congealed into a certificate of birth. Written in the blood red ink of the first potion which indicated a direct descendent relationship, the words were burned into Severus Snape’s brain like no other.

 _Bonding Birth_  
 _Physician On Duty – Myryle Dolohov_  
 _Born on this day, July 31st 1980, a male child was born to the following parents:_  
 _Carrier: Regulus Arcturus Black_  
 _Seed Father(s): Severus Tobias Snape_  
 _Name: Solace Rafael Black_  
 _Weight: 2lbs 4oz_  
 _Length: 10in_  
 _Hair: Black  
_ _Notations of the NPOD: Male was born two months premature, and will require constant physician check-ups to prevent any problems or situations that may occur during childhood._

His whole adult life was wasted hating a child that was his own flesh and blood. He'd been so bitter when Reggie had abandoned him after a simple fight. Reggie had sent him a brief letter telling him of the loss of their child and was never heard from again. Fear and terror suddenly gripped his throat tightly as he raced up the stairs to the dining room. His food and the letter that had come bearing such life changing news were gone. 

“Skippy!”

The shouted for elf popped into the room, staring up at his Master with wide blue eyes.

“What happened to the letter I left on the table?” Severus asked.

“Skippy bes putting it in Master’s Office.” Skippy said, staring after his master in shock when the normally calm and taciturn man wheeled on his heels and ran for the office.

Severus reached his office in record time, rereading the letter now and getting sick at the message he was getting. His own flesh and blood in the hands of an abusive muggle! Shame coursed through his veins when he realized that if those tests had proved that the letter was false, he would have been setting up ‘Harry Potter’ to a face worse than death. He was a despicable person, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve his son’s forgiveness. 

But he’d be damned if he wouldn’t try.

Knowing the creature blood that course through Solace’s blood the 16th birthday would be a tumultuous time for him to go through alone. Numarian's were complicated creatures, and their Ascension into adulthood was equally complicated. It readied the fledgling to begin searching for their mate or mates, and it wasn’t unheard of to have a harem of mates at a single submissive’s beck and call.

But he’d worry about this all later. The most important thing to do now was to rescue his son and Petunia and her son from certain peril.

“Skippy!” He called again, and the worried house elf was suddenly there again.

“Master?”

“Ready two guest rooms and my old rooms for a long stay. I’ll be returning with my son and his…adopted family shortly.” He barked out the orders as he reached for his traveling cloak. “I want my medicinal potion’s bag in the heir’s suite, and an elf assigned to each room for the guests.”

“Yes, Master.”

With a swirl of black cloth and a spin, Severus Snape was gone.


	3. There's Nothing Left To Say, Now

_July 30th 3:54pm_  
 _Number 4 Privet Drive_

It was his fault. He hadn’t been watching his surroundings carefully enough and he’d slipped up. After the letter had been sent off it seemed as if everything that could go wrong, did. With the exception of Vernon returning home, that is. At least they’d be blessed with four more hours until the man returned for his dinner and nightly boxing match.

The sink in the kitchen decided that it was time to spring a massive leak, Petunia had become hysterical when the kitchen and then the living room had become saturated with the water, and while Dudley had tried his best to keep Harry away from doing anything, they’d needed the help. So Harry was attempting to mop one handed, the other braced against his chest in an ACE Bandage that he’d have to remove before Vernon returned home, while Dudley and Petunia attempted to suck the water out of the carpets in the living room with the carpet washer that Vernon had gifted to Petunia last year for Christmas.

He hadn’t heard the knock at the front door. He’d been concentrating on trying to calm his sobbing mother, get the water out of the carpet and maintain his level of worry and fear that somehow his father would come home. So, no, he hadn’t heard the door.

But Harry had, apparently. Suddenly realizing that the gentle humming in the kitchen had stopped, Dudley had looked up and found the mop resting against the counter.

“Mum. Where’s Harry?”

“He’s answering the door, duddykins…” She replied, sniffling wetly at the end.

Dudley stared at his mother in horror before getting to his feet.

“Bugger.”

He ran to the front door to find a gloomy looking man crowded in the doorway. He wore an impressive suit and tie, with sandy blonde hair and a handsome tanned face. Not knowing who this stranger was, who was staring at Harry with growing horror and disbelief, Dudley grabbed Harry and pulled him behind his much larger body.

“Who are you? What are you doing in our house?” Dudley demanded, glaring at the man who simply pushed him aside and came in.

“I am here for the boy.”

With that, Harry screamed and tried to run up the stairs. Chaos ensued in that moment, everyone seemingly at once rushing to capture the suddenly feral and rabid Harry Potter. He sobbed and screamed and bit and kicked at everyone trying to grab him. Every jerk he made to get away, every pull and squirm just hurt him more, but he seemed determined to get away.

“Harry, HARRY!” A deep voice called, dark and strangely sultry, even to Dudley’s ears. “Harry, you called me here…it’s Severus, it’s your father.”

Harry immediately stopped squirming. He was plastered to the strange man, breathing hard in exertion. Dudley frowned at the man, confused from his assumed description of the Professor.

Severus stared down at his son. His SON. Harry looked emaciated. With bruises around his eyes and face, his lip now bleeding copiously down his chin, and no meat on his bones, he appeared a pale, ghostly replica of his former self. He looked like a skeleton wearing clothes. But it was his eyes that broke Severus’ heart.

They were…utterly empty. They stared at him dully, their color much more akin to a Peridot green than their usual emerald tones. Severus’ heart froze in his chest as he realized just how far his son had fallen into despair. He knew, without a doubt, that his child would never regain the lost color of his eyes. It was the way of their kind.

While a Numarian could withstand abuse of the worst kind, the level of abuse would be measured in the color of their eyes. The fact that Severus’ son had lost the deepness and dark quality of his original emerald, was a testament to the trials and abuse he withstood.

Harry’s eyes tracked up to the Potion’s Masters face as the glamours began to fall away and a trembling smile touched his swollen and battered lips.

“Father…”

“I’m here now.”

Three simple words put the boy at ease and he went limp in the Potion Professor’s arms. He stared, unblinkingly, at Severus, as if waiting for something. Though his eyes held no emotion, the smile still trembled on his face, shy and timid.

“Harry…how do you know who I am?” Severus asked, cupping his son’s face in his potion stained hands.

“Sirius told me…left me a journal…saw …saw memories.” Harry mumbled softly, his eyes fluttering shut at the touch of his father.

“Memories? Who’s memories?”

A soft sound crawled out of Harry and he whispered, “My mother’s.” He grew more and more agitated, more fearful, until Severus broke.

Unable to stop himself, Severus clutched his son close. His hands threaded through greasy, unclean hair and he fought not to hex the large, muscled boy that was standing watching with confusion in his brown eyes.

“Oh, god, Harry, I didn’t know…I didn’t know…Forgive me…” Severus gasped into the too thin neck and fought for some semblance of control. “It’s okay…It’s alright now. Everything is going to be alright now…”

Around him, a sense of calm seemed to gather and settled around the father and son. Dudley was reluctant to break the two up, but Petunia was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, wringing her hands.

“Dudley?” She called, the sound of her voice like a cannon shot in the quiet. “Is everything alright?”

“No, but it will be,” Severus said, rising to his feet and carrying the far-too-light body into the sitting room. “You must pack your bags, Petunia. I refuse to leave anything or anyone behind to this abuse.”

“But you hate Harry…and me.”

“I did. I’m ashamed to say that if it hadn’t been proven that Harry was my son, that I might have left you all here to your husband’s heavy hand.” Severus said, brushing the dirty hair away from his son’s face. “But things have changed. Pack whatever you think you need. Quickly. You too, boy.” He said to Dudley. “I’ll take care of Harry’s things.”

“Just his school trunk, Severus.” Petunia said. “Vernon wouldn’t let us buy things for Harry.”

Severus swallowed the growl that itched its way up his throat. Petunia wisely took that as a sign to leave and do as he ordered, and she dragged her son with her. Severus never took his eyes away from the sight of his son’s face. It seemed that Harry had experienced a little too much excitement in too short a time, for he lay dozing in his father’s lap. But those Peridot eyes never left his father’s face.

“Where are your trunk and school things, Harry?” Severus asked, looking down at the condition of his son.

“Under…the stairs.” Came the boy’s wispy voice.

Severus nodded, and watched as the boy, Dudley Dursley, came back down with a backpack, and a single suitcase. Having heard the last words that Harry had said, Dudley sat the backpack on the suitcase and opened the cupboard under the stairs. From his vantage point, Severus could see the battered cot that sat in it, and he turned to his son with a question on his face.

Seeing that his son was staring up at him still although under heavy eyelids, he didn’t ask the question that burned in his brain. Instead, Severus simply sighed and turned his attention back to the two Dursley’s. Petunia had emerged from the upstairs with a suitcase and a large tote that probably was serving as a second bag.

“Dudley, I’ve got those papers you got from the solicitor signed.” Petunia said, waving the stack and setting them on the table.

Severus looked at the larger youth in surprise.

“I refuse to let my mum be my father’s punching bag any longer. I’ve done all I can to protect her and Harry, but this summer was the last straw.” Dudley frowned at Harry for a moment. “We’ve been taking pictures of Harry and mum when my dad isn’t home. Neither my mum or Harry deserve this, and we thought that that Dumbledore guy’d help, but-“

“You contacted Dumbledore?” Severus asked, his entire focus now on the boy standing there.

“Yeah, I mean. Yes, sir. We did.” Dudley looked as if he realized the very importance of his answer and told the absolute truth. “A while ago. That’s when my dad started to really knock ‘em around. It’s like he got a free pass or something.”

“Is there any other evidence that you can use?” Severus asked.

“I know where Vernon keeps his letters from Dumbledore,” Petunia spoke up, after a look from her son. “And the bank receipts from the money he gets.”

“Money?” Severus asked, getting to his feet and gently putting a still dozing Harry on his own two feet.

“Dumbledore sends dad a bag of coins every month,” Dudley said, confusion evident in his face. “Dad takes it to the jeweler in town to get the money from the gold.”

Instinctively, Severus knew exactly where the money was coming from. Harry Potter’s vaults. It would be the only place to get funds like that and not raise suspicions. Who would question the loss of money in an orphan boy’s account, when that orphan was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived? Surely he had massive expenses, what with training for the war against the Dark Lord and living an opulent lifestyle?

"Best grab them then." Severus said, and watched the Dursley boy go upstairs at his mother's instruction.

Turning to stare at the shockingly small bundle of bones in his arms, he didn’t want to voice the thought that had this been merely a day ago, he’d have gone along with that trail of thought.

“At least we have a paper trail now,” Dudley said, nodding at his mother.

“Why is he so dirty?” Severus asked, again, looking at Dudley.

“Vernon won’t let him bathe, and he won’t let us let him either. I tried once, but he could tell that Harry had showered,” Petunia answered, her voice and face filled with shame.

“I’ve been wiping him down with cloths, when I can,” Dudley volunteered.

Severus realized at once the task he had before him, and only in a few short hours his tiny son would be going through his Ascension into adulthood. The thought downright terrified him, knowing the changes that came with the creature transition would be harsh on the body and the magic of a Nomarian child. Harry would be in enough pain without these injuries, but add them in and it was a volatile mix.

“Is everything ready?” Severus said, walking Harry over to where the pile of luggage sat.

“Yes. Everything I have of value is in my bags, and the divorce papers are on the kitchen table.” Petunia said, putting her arm around her son.

“What if he refuses to sign?” Severus asked, holding out a silver chain for the other two to grasp. “Please hold onto this chain and your bags. When I say the activation word, the portkey will send us to just outside Spinner’s End. I’ll need to add you to the approved people to enter the property, and then you can be safe and rest for the evening.”

“He has a week to sign, or I’m going to the police.” Petunia said. A decidedly Slytherin-esque smile crossed her features. “I never said I wouldn’t go if he did sign them.”

Severus smothered the bark of laughter that wanted to escape.

“Is this going to hurt?” Dudley said.

“No. It will be nauseating the first time you travel by portkey. It is merely disorienting.” Severus said, having Harry grasp the chain with his good hand, and holding his son’s school trunk with his free one. “Ready??”

When everyone had nodded, and everyone gripped the chain and their possessions tightly, Severus said clearly, “Regulus.”


	4. The Shadows On My Wall Don't Sleep

_July 30th 4:37 pm_  
 _Spinners End_

 

Immediately upon their arrival at Spinners End, Harry leaned over and vomited on the asphalt of the sidewalk. Severus winced, not with disgust but with the realization that his son would always hold port keys in such a way that he would be unable to handle them. They would almost always make him nauseas and ill. Absently, he waved his hand and the mess vanished without fuss. He would not shame his son for his body’s reaction to the portkey.

Staring up at the hidden grandeur of Spinners End, Severus smirked when the two Dursley’s traded looks of impossible disbelief that he could live in the dilapidated house that they saw. The only one of the three newcomers to see the house in its splendor was Harry, who gaped a little at the beautiful manor house that sat in wizard space between the two muggle houses on either side of it. 

Once again, he mentally thanked his talented mother for the illusion she’d placed over the house she’d created on top of the home that she’d suffered in. After the death of his father, Eileen Snape ne Prince had magically torn the house - the hell hole - that she and her son had lived in for years and magically constructed the manor house that he currently lived in.

He felt delighted now that he had a son to introduce to the ancient Prince portraits within the halls of Spinners End. He turned to the Dursley’s and smirked slightly.

“I will need a drop of blood from each of you in order for you to access the home before us properly.” He said, motioning to the front door. “If you would place your hand on the door knocker, and say ‘ _In Aeternum Venerabilis_ ’, you will feel a slight prick on your palm and the wards will open to you.”

Watching as first Petunia and then Dudley did as requested, Harry leaned over and whispered, “What does… it mean?”

Almost smiling at his son, Severus turned and touched the inky dark hair that had seemingly grown within the last hour or so. 

“It means ‘Eternal Venerable’ roughly, but was expanded to mean ‘Forever Worthy’. It is the Prince family motto. And it is now yours as well.” Severus said, before motioning for the now gaping Petunia and Dudley to follow them inside the grand double doors. He carried his son’s trunk in one hand, the other arm around his son’s small, skeletal shoulders. And that reminded him of the first order of business.

Making his son well again by any means necessary.

Spinner’s End was a grand manor, and while it wasn’t as ostentatious as the Malfoy Manor house, it fit what was left of the Prince line quite well. A beautiful pale stone home of three stories, and ten bedrooms, seven of which were suites with two now ready for occupation complete with their own bathrooms boasting of easy grandeur and luxury. The heir’s suite was set directly next to the Master Suite and boasted of their own sitting rooms, walk through closets, and luxurious bedrooms. Eileen had spent a great deal of time and energy to create a home that her son would feel privileged to be in.

A state of the art – to steal a muggle phrase of course – potion’s laboratory in the basements along with a well-stocked wine cellar, an expansive kitchen and house elf quarters on the first floor; there was also the floo room, an extensive library (two stories high!) also utilized wizard space to add even more room, a formal and a family dining room, a sitting room and a main receiving room. The bedrooms were on the third floor, and also utilized wizard space with great skill. 

While it didn’t boast much for grounds along the sides, Eileen had contacted a dear friend of the family to add grounds in the back of the house, with a beautifully serene garden, a modest quidditch pitch (in the hopes that her son would have children of his own and visit), and three green houses that were well tended.

Once inside the door way, and once the door had shut behind them, he called for service. Skippy and his mate Tippy appeared with a soft pop, and while Tippy dealt with the introductions, Skippy popped the bags into the correct rooms. Eager to be of use, he asked Severus if there was anything he could do right then.

“Prepare the heir’s suite bathroom for a long, hot and healing bath, please.” He said, the calm tone belying the worry for his son easily.

“Yes Master. Lunches?” Skippy asked, knowing his preference to eating three full meals a day during the summer.

“Best make it an early, hearty dinner, Skippy.” He turned to Petunia and Dudley, who were each holding each other tightly and staring at the house elves with something akin to fascination but was too polite to be called such. “If you would prefer, you may eat in your rooms, or the dining room.”

“I think if Dudley and I ate in my rooms it would be alright.” Petunia replied, shakily. “Will Harry be eating?”

“Something lighter than the dinner I imagine,” Severus said a little dryly, moving to hug the silent dark haired boy and marveling at the ease in which the motion came to him.

There was no doubt now that Harry Potter – or Solace Black, as was on his birth certificate – was a Nomari and would be going through an intense inheritance.

“Skippy will lead you to your rooms. Please excuse us now, I’ve need to get my son clean.” 

With that, Severus guided his rather docile and willing son down the charmed halls of Spinners End, towards the Heir’s Suite that had been part of the enchantments. When Harry tripped over his own feet the third time, Severus barely thought about the motion as he swept the far too light body into his arms and carried him the rest of the way.

Harry cuddled into the embrace, sighing deeply as if some heavy weight was no longer on his shoulders. Severus refused to let the smile that wanted to cross his face at the action. He was Severus Snape, after all. All signs of joy and happiness must be contained with a modicum of propriety. Besides, there were too many troubling things that needed to be addressed before he could really and truly feel happy.

Reaching the Heir’s Suite, he nudged the door open and walked into the room. Done in shades of pale creams and greens, he was pleased to see no silver among the colors. It seemed that Skippy had a bit of seer within his house elf blood, Severus thought, as the shades of green suited Harry very well. A large, four poster bed with white gauze draped over the poles and heavy dark green curtains that would block out the sun and light to ensure a proper, healing sleep stood against the far wall. The wood of the bed was a pale birch, so pale it was almost white itself. The accent furniture was also done in the same style and color, the bookcases that stood empty, and the small coffee table that sat in the sitting room he could see to the left through a large set of double doors.

Turning to the right, he walked through the large walk in closet to the door of the bathroom beyond. There was little to note in the walk in closet, other than the fact that it was bare and had several shelves for shoes and accessories along with empty hangers waiting for a wardrobe. He swore as soon as he could, he would be outfitting his son in clothes other than the ragged, worn hand-me-downs he wore currently.

The bathroom was a study in oasis colors. Rich, fragrant flora grew from magicked pots and cared for by the many house elves within the manor. Sand colored walls, while the floor was splashed with green and blue tiles and in the tub of the in-floor bathtub. The toilet was in a separate room and the door was shut. The bathtub was steaming nicely, Severus noted, and he could smell the herbs and healing potions within the hot water. Gently, he set his son on his own two feet and he simply stared at his child.

So strange that he could now look at Harry Potter, and see that he wasn’t truly a Potter at all. The inky black hair was more reminiscent of his own locks, and the hair had grown to his chin now. The green of his eyes perhaps a holdover from Regulus’s side of the family although now the green was far more muted than the deep emerald it had been once upon a time. However, Severus was placed to note that the color had maintained the entire time that Harry had been in his custody. Harry’s mouth was pure Regulus, though, full and slightly pouty, although both the top and bottom lip was caked with blood having been split so often. The wide eyes were reminiscent of Eileen Prince, with thick black lashes framing them with stunning effect. The heart shaped face was Regulus again, although the high cheekbones were from Severus himself.

“Have you any questions for me?” Severus asked, pushing a lank lock of hair away from his son’s face.

“Tons.” Harry smiled. “How about …you?”

“Tons.” Severus said with a chuckle and making his son laugh as well. “Let’s get you clean, potioned and fed before we delve too deeply into still waters.”

“Good.” Harry said with a jerky nod.

“I’m going to help you into the bath, Harry-“

“Solace.” Harry said, turning those peridot eyes to his father. “Harry Potter died… back there.”

A moment passed where father and son stared at each other, before Severus nodded.

“Solace. I’m going to help you into the bath, and then you’re going to take some potions. They might make you sleepy, but do your best to stay awake until you’ve eaten something. Now…” Severus paused as he reached for the hem of the shirt Har-Solace wore. It would take some effort to make the change from Harry to Solace, but he was determined to mind his son’s wishes. “Tell me what hurts.”

“Everything.” Solace said with a grimace as he raised his hands up over his head. “Ribs…hurts to breathe. Arm’s broke. Face hurts too.”

“How about your legs?” Severus said, moving to the corded rope holding up jeans that had seen better days, decades ago.

“Didn’t bother to hit me there.” Solace said, moving to unwrap his arm of the Ace Bandage that Dudley had put on this morning. “Legs’re good.”

“Were you starved?” Severus asked bluntly, watching Solace step out of the jeans as they pooled around his ankles. He wore no pants beneath them, and Severus frowned at this but said nothing.

“Yes.” Solace said, scratching his head with his good hand, and grimacing at the feel. “Haven’t had a…good meal in…months. Dudley and Petunia fed me what…he could.” He snorted. “Kept me alive.”

“We’ll get some broth into you today. I can’t do anything about the weight you’ve lost except feed you and give you a nutrient potion to help with meals.” Severus said this sadly, as he looked at the skeletal frame of his son.

Regulus would be mad about now, he thought with a mental wince. Stark raving mad.

“Let’s get you to the tub.” Severus said, helping his son walk across the cool tiles and steadying him as he stepped down into the sunken bath.

A deep sigh escaped Solace as he felt the hot water and potions in the bath do their work. Severus conjured a simply chair to sit in and called for service as his son relaxed in the bath, using a cloth to wash the dirt, sweat, tears, blood and grime off of his skin.

Severus blinked at the elf that appeared at his call. He hadn’t seen this particular elf since he was a child. Simmons blinked at his Master and nodded at some unasked question.

“I’s here to take care of the little master.” He said simply, bowing to the boy in the tub. “Little master is a Prince, and has lots to learn. I’s teaching him, and caring for him.”

“…Solace, this is Simmons. He’s been an elf for the Prince family for many, many years. He was my mother’s elf before she died.” Severus said when he got his voice back.

“Pleased to meet…you, Simmons.” Solace said and held a wet hand out to shake.

Simmons looked at the hand for a moment, before touching his fingers to the palm of his new master, or rather his little master. He eyed Severus ominously for a moment, and sniffed when Severus merely shrugged.

“Master called Simmons?”

“I need my red potion’s kit from the lab. Please get it for me.” Severus said, and Simmons popped away to do what was asked. “Simmons will take great care of you, Solace, and teach you about your Prince heritage.”

When Simmons returned with the mentioned bag, he also had a tray with a silver lid on it.

“Simmons brings hot broth for the little master, and dinner for Master.” He eyed his new charge with stern eyes as he held the tray. “Eat after baths and potions, in the bedroom little master. But not too muches, to overstuff yourself’s.” When Solace nodded with slightly wide eyes, Simmons echoed it, and popped away to the bedroom presumably.

“Is he…always that intense?” Solace asked.

“Yes. His devotion to the Prince family is one to marvel at, but I distinctly remember mischievousness to be a part of him. He always was a favorite of my mothers.” Severus sat for a moment, before he shook himself out of memories. “I have potions for you to take, and then let us wash your hair.”

“Yes, let us.” Solace said with a dry smile on his face.


	5. My Age Has Never Made Me Wise

_July 30th 5:42 pm_  
 _Spinners End_

 

The potions were quite simple: A blood replacement, pain killer, skele-gro and a nutrient potion. Once Severus had scrubbed his sons’ scalp with shampoo (three times in fact) the inky mass lay clean and shining along his shoulders. It had grown again, and would continue to grow into the night and the following day before reaching its finished length. Then they could cut the mass to whatever length Solace wanted, and it would grow at a normal rate again. It was what prompted the thoughts that Solace would be coming into a Nomarian Ascension.

The water never went cold, even when they refilled the water after rinsing the suds from his hair and scalp. It simply filled the tub, steamed and they rinsed again. Solace smiled at the last rinsing, feeling clean for the first time in ages. He knew without having his father tell him that his arm had been broken, as well as two ribs and his left cheekbone. The skele-gro dose he’d taken would help the breaks heal and set properly, the dose much lower than the one he’d had to take when Lockhart had vanished the bones in his arm.

He did feel a bit sleepy, but actually felt more alert and awake than anything else. Climbing out of the wonderful tub, he dried himself off and wrapped himself into the soft bathing robe that his father gave him. A quick wave of Severus’ wand, and his hair and skin were dry, the dark locks curling at the ends at their current length. He smiled at his reflection, although it was a bit blurry without his glasses.

He was just so glad to be clean it wasn’t funny.

He turned and stared at his father – and wasn’t that trippy – watching as he seemed to fidget where he stood.

“You seem worried,” Solace said to his father as they made their way into the bedroom.

“I am. Despite us finding you in time to prevent anything else from happening in that muggle’s house, I truly believe that we are not out of the woods yet. Between your…mother and I, it is my hypothesis that you will go through a creature inheritance tonight.”

“Is that how mother carried me as he did?” Solace asked, grateful for the boost that his father gave him into the tall bed. “Because he was a creature?”

“We both were…are.” Severus frowned, summoning a more comfortable chair from the sitting area in order to sit beside the bed and eat with his son. “I am a Nomari, as was your mother. We are cousin to the ancient dragons of the world, taking on characteristics and instincts in order to be stronger and survive among humans.” Severus adjusted the tray on his son’s lap and watched the boy as he took a few sips of the broth before he continued speaking. “I will give you a potion tonight to rest easy, and should you go through an inheritance I will be beside you. It is my hope that you won’t wake through it, as it is rather painful. It wouldn’t cause the damage the muggle has done to you to reappear, but your body composition would change. It is not a painless experience.”

“Was it painful for you?” Solace asked, watching Severus in curiosity.

“Quite. I am a half-blood, but on my sixteenth birthday I came into my Nomarian Ascension. The Nomari blood dominates over any human weakness it perceives in the body. Since I am a half-blood, it had a plethora of human weakness to attack. Since your mother was considered to be a pureblooded Nomarian, it wasn’t as painful of a transition. His mother and father both had the Nomarian gene, and passed it to your mother, making him pureblooded. I had my father’s muggle blood to contend with, as well as the fact that my mother is the one who passed the gene onto me.” Severus explained patiently, even as his blood percolated in his veins in excitement.

The chances of Solace being Nomari were 50/50, but his instincts were screaming at him that his child would have the blood. He had hidden what he was for so long that it was very difficult to concentrate passed the urges of his instincts to smother the boy with care and attention. Perhaps those urges wouldn’t have been so sudden and drastic if the boy had been raised with Severus as he should have been, but that was neither here nor there. All he could do was be there for his child and care for him from here on out.

“So what does that mean for me?”

Severus looked at his son, before pointedly staring at the bowl of broth. When Solace began to spoon the thin liquid into his mouth, Severus continued. 

“If you come into the Ascension, you would be considered a pureblooded Nomari. That means that both of your parents gave you the gene, and not just one of us.”

“That doesn’t make sense. What if mum gave me the gene, and you didn’t?”

“Because of my half-blood status, you will merely become an exceptionally powerful wizard with the ability to pass the gene onto your children. You stand just as much of a chance becoming a Nomari, than not because of the gene’s that I have given you. It could be all for naught, and you may not go through an inheritance tonight. Either way the gene is within you to be used one way, or another.”

“That’s still not making sense to me.”

Severus sighed softly, and took a bite of his hearty sandwich, swallowed and looked at his son.

“It’s a magical inheritance.” Severus took a sip of his cooling tea and watched his son take a few sips of his broth before continuing again. “While we are few in number, Nomarian’s are strong in magic. The drive to continue our species is great. I would not be surprised if, for whatever reason, you didn’t come into an Ascension, that your choice of partner would have the gene as well. Magic is a powerful conductor within us, driving our instincts and choices. Magic within a Nomarian is a great force, strong and working in ways that frighten many normal wizards. It is one of the reasons that the Nomarian race is so short on numbers currently.”

Severus saw his son smother a yawn, and nodded.

“I would rather not overfill your head with information that might not be applicable. I would rather you rested, and let the potions and elixirs within you do their jobs.” Severus said softly. “It has been a trying day for you, not to mention the time you have spent under the muggle’s boot. Rest.”

“What about tonight?” Solace asked, giving up his tray without fight. He was full and he didn’t want Simmons to leap down his throat for over eating. He watched his father take the tray and set it on the floor next to the bed for now. “What if I go through the inheritance?”

“Then I will be by your side, Solace. You will not be alone. I will watch you tonight. But for now, you need rest, and something tells me that my presence will do little to ease you into sleep. I am going to check on Petunia and Dudley.”

With that said, he went to Solace’s bathroom, where he had left his red potions bag. He came back to his son’s bed, and gave him a purple potion that was a stronger form of Dreamless Sleep. After watching Solace take the potion with a grimace, he tucked the empty vial in the bag. He made his way over to the door leading into the hallway, the two trays of food following behind him automatically. When he reached the doorway, he was stopped by his son’s voice.

“Professor…”

“You may call me father, Solace…or if that is too uncomfortable for you at the moment, then Severus will do.”

“Severus, then. If Petunia wasn’t my mother’s sister, then why was I placed with them? Was I ever safe there?”

Severus paused for a moment, before shaking his head.

“That, I am afraid, is something that I do not know.” He replied, “I will be back shortly. Rest.” 

Stepping into the hallway, he summoned a house elf to take the trays away, and Simmons to watch his son while he was attending to his guests. He had plenty to do this evening, but the most important thing was that his son was out of that muggles clutches and in his care. He’d be damned if he failed his son now.

~~

After checking on Petunia and Dudley, making certain that they were as comfortable as they could be in such strange surroundings, Severus had a few tasks to take care of until he could watch over his son again. He sent off a request to Gringotts for his son, as well as a request to meet with his personal banker as soon as it was possible to arrange.

He then contacted a good friend of his, also a Nomarian that had made not-so-discrete overtures to Severus attending the midsummer Gathering. Informing Cristopher about his son, and the chances of his Ascension, he explained that he might need to visit Spinners End within the next few days. Cristopher had been one of Regulus’ dearest friends, and they had been pregnant together. Severus kept in touch with him as they both spent years searching for every trace of knowledge on Regulus’ disappearance. Cristopher had resources and knowledge that Severus didn’t have access to, and if Solace’s inheritance came tonight, Severus knew that Cristopher had answers that Severus didn’t, and could answer his sons questions better than he could.

After the long missive had been sent, he made lists regarding the things that needed to be accomplished as soon as possible. One of the things he needed to do with Solace was to sit down and talk about their future. Would they take Solace out of Hogwarts, or would that be redundant since Solace had in fact never been on the school’s roster? What of Petunia and Dudley? What would happen to Harry Potter? But the most important question was what did Solace want to do? He of all people knew that Harry Potter had had little choice in his life, where he lived, who he befriended, and the tasks he had already undertaken had all been strategically created and engineered by Albus Dumbledore.

It was a strategic stroke of luck that while the Ministry might classify Nomari as dark beings, they were still beings and Severus had rights that other dark beings and creatures didn’t. It was one of the few races of the magical world that the pure human wizards had lost battles against and were unable to completely subjugate. Goblins had gotten the poor end of the stick, but managed to get their own on the wizarding world by their convoluted and difficult contracts – that and the fact that wizards still trusted the goblins with all their money. Veelas, Nomari, Vampires, and the rare Fae (even if they had returned to their realm and had little, if any, contact with the wizarding world) had come out on top concerning their freedoms in the wizarding world. 

History was written by the victors, and the Ministry had banned as much information about the Veela, Vampires, Fae and Nomari because they had lost and were forced to concede. The Ministry tried its hardest to sweep that shame under the proverbial rugs in an effort to make the Ministry look infallible and righteous. Not much information that did come into being was correct, and more often than not was mere hypothetical blathering. 

For example, it was not widely known that if he (Severus), for any reason to do with Nomarian culture, had to forsake his position within Hogwarts he could do so with no notice. So if Solace decided to completely withdraw from the Wizarding World, they could do so without penalty. And if, for any reason, he decided to follow his father into Hogwarts, he could do so without the pressure of attending classes. Nomarian children were often homeschooled, kept away from wizarding culture, until they were of an age to make decisions for themselves. It would not be a hardship to hire tutors to teach Solace, even within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

His goal currently was to give Solace as many options as possible. He no longer was recognized by anything as being Harry Potter, the potions that Severus had done earlier that day proving without a single doubt that he wasn’t Harry Potter in any way shape or form. So, Dumbledore couldn’t actually say that Solace was in fact Harry Potter, especially if he tried to force Solace to do anything he didn’t want to do. And Albus Dumbledore had plans within machinations. The one thing that he, perhaps, had never planned on was Harry knowing who he truly was.

He would regret manipulating his son.

Severus made his way up to his sons room again, knocking softly on the door just in case he was still awake. When no answer was forthcoming, he opened the door silently and stepped into the darkened room. It was closer to 9 pm, and he refused to be parted from his son any longer. The night was drawing to a close and his lists and letters had taken up most of his early evening hours. He had promised that Solace wouldn’t be alone tonight, and he had meant it.

On the large bed, lay his son. Inky black hair cascaded in waves on top of the covers, and Severus could still see it growing. If Solace had been standing, it would probably reach the middle of his back. Remembering his own Ascension, as well as Regulus’, it would be longer before the night ended. It was partly the reason he believed Solace was a Nomari. Many Nomarian’s had longer hair than was accepted within wizarding society. Their hair simply grew faster than a normal wizards, and in ancient times it was a sign of great prestige and magical strength to have long hair. Now a days, however, it wasn’t viewed the same way. It was more an aesthetic choice than a right of passage.

He could see that Solace was deeply asleep, and he frowned at the dark shadows under his eyes. Despite the potions he’d given to Solace, Severus knew that it would take much longer than a single day to reverse and rectify the treatment he had received. Severus had every intention of making certain that his son suffered as little as possible from his past treatment under that muggle’s thumb. Pulling up the chair he had sat in earlier that evening, Severus reached out and picked up a pale hand. Long, graceful fingers tipped with broken and jagged nails; absently, he was listing the various potions he could concoct that would give his son stronger nails as he turned the delicate palm over.

He was holding his sons hand.

It was a visceral sensation in his gut. This was his child, lying with flushed cheeks from sleep, his full lips parted slightly as he breathed through his nose. It should have frightened him, this intense feeling that welled up within him as he stared at Solace. Instead, it seemed to appease his instincts, as if some need had now been met within him. As if he now had a purpose beyond mourning his Regulus, and fighting the good fight.

The hand in his was frail, thin and bony. The body under the blankets was gaunt and frail, emaciated and it made a rage burn within him that he hadn’t felt for years. To be honest, he’d not felt much of anything in years. Oh, he could play act like the best of them, but he hadn’t felt anything deep in the wells of his soul in ages. It was as if he had merely resigned himself to surviving, and not living.

But he felt rage now.

It would take months, upon years of treating his son with nutrient potions for him to reverse the starvation Solace had suffered from. It would have caused all sorts of difficulties for him as he continued growing, even if he went through an inheritance this evening, if it was not remedied. Brittle bones, anemia, depression, anxiety and the inability to regulate his core body temperature were only a minor few of the issues he could suffer from. Not to mention the kinds of illnesses that he could contract with such a weak immune system. The worry at the back of his mind was staggering.

Gently laying his sons hand on the green and cream duvet, he watched the boy breathe deeply. It was probably the most rest the boy had gotten in ages. Severus sighed softly, unable to let go of the delicate hand completely. Unable to sever that frail connection.

So he sat, and time marched past them. He had no idea for the amount of time that passed, but suddenly, Solace’s hand twitched under Severus’. The tips of those long fingers began to glow and Severus reluctantly let his sons’ hand go, even as a smile attempted to slide on his face. Pride and a sense of awe filled his chest as he watched the glow of magic dance just under Solace’s skin.

His son was beginning his Nomarian Ascension. He could not be prouder than he was at this moment. At the back of his mind, and deep in his heart, he thought to himself, “ _Regulus would have loved this._ ”


	6. Oh Your Eyes Look Tired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of information here, and I hope it makes sense. If not, let me know and I can clarify things. Yay for inheritances! -happy dance-

_July 31th 1 am_  
 _Spinners End_

 

Magic poured out of every pore of Solace’s body. Slowly he began to rise from the bed, levitating from the force of his magic. Severus knew that if he had been awake, that Solace would be feeling the deep muscle ache in his body as the Nomarian blood began to course through his veins and arteries, changing and restructuring organs and tissue.  


Severus didn’t remember much of his own Ascension, but it had been painful. He’d feared, while going through it, that he would lose his mind from the agony of it. He couldn’t help but wince as his sons muscles began to spasm, and blood was seeping out of Solace’s back. The slender, too thin form was contorting in solid jerks and flinches. Soft whimpers were escaping, muted from the use of the potion keeping him asleep, and each one made Severus wince at the sound. Two slits appeared through the flesh of Solace’s back, as the Nomarian wings began to form and push their way out of his sons body.  


Delicate, pale scales began to form in swirls and vines along Solace’s body. Even under the glow of Solace’s magic, Severus could see a faint, pale green tinge to their color. Most of the scales on Solace’s body would match his skin tone, but at the center of each whirl and vine was a faint, peridot green. Just like his sons eyes.  


The wings were more prominent now, and the scales were a deep emerald green that gradually faded in color to match Solace’s pale skin tone as the scales moved down the wings and met the boys back. Claws were beginning to form on Solace’s thin hands, and Severus could see that the Nomarian blood had begun to subtly reshape his sons body. He grew only a little taller, and his hips widened slightly – enough to have Severus smile. The widening of the hips, rather than the shoulders, indicated that his son was one of the rare Remissivos.  


His son would carry the next generation of Nomari, and continue Regulus and Severus’ lines into the future.  


There was a great concentration of magic on Solace’s forehead, focusing on the infamous lightning bolt scar. It grew brighter and brighter, buzzing and humming with intensity. Severus watched, transfixed, as the magic suddenly burst outwards in a shower of pale green sparks. Dimly, he could hear a faint, high pitched scream and then only the hum of Solace’s magic remained.  


Severus noticed that Solace’s hair was curling now, not just wavy. Tendrils of magic swirled around each lock, making it longer and softer. It would reach the small of his back now, and it suited the boy very well. He knew that fangs would form within his sons mouth, top and bottom eyeteeth sharpening. Even though Solace was levitating off the bed, Severus could see the tips of his ears pointing, and the delicate formation of two horns at Solace’s temples, curling like a rams. Since he was a Remissivo, and not a Dominante or Appoggiare, the horns were smaller, and more delicate. They were barely five inches wide, curling inward in a clockwise fashion almost hidden by Solace’s hair. Dominante’s in Nomarian form had bull-like horns, curving backwards rather than straight out at the temples; Appoggiare’s horns were formed just on the outside of the forehead, and not quite at the temples, flowing backward over the head in a lyre-shaped formation.  


Slowly, inexorably, the muscle spasms and blood stopped. Before the magic glow left Solaces body, however, Severus waved his hand and the blood on the bed disappeared as did the blood on his sons face. Thankfully, Solace had not woken during the transition from wizard to Nomari. Gradually the magic glow left the pale skin, and the beautiful earthy wings retracted back into Solace’s body, as did the horns. The pale green and white scales slowly faded away, leaving moonlit flesh behind.  


He could still see the scars that Solace had received when he had been Harry Potter. Severus knew that it would take a long while for any potion to remove those scars completely from his body. Thankfully, the wounds that had occurred during his Ascension were no longer there, Nomarian healing was a beautiful thing. Now that his Ascension was complete, Solace would heal much quicker than he had as a human wizard. It had only taken an hour, at the most, whereas Severus Ascension had taken 3 hours because his Nomarian blood had eaten away at the muggle human weaknesses within his body.  


Staring at Solace in silence, Severus reached out and caught one of the boys wayward curls. It felt like spider silk between his potions stained fingertips. Seemingly on its own power, it seemed alive and curled around his fingers. The thick locks were deep, inky black, as if his hair was made of pure shadows. It was very different from Severus’ own hair, as well as Regulus’. Regulus’ hair was very curly, wildly so, and Severus had straight, chin length hair. Solace’s hair was a silky balance between the two.  


Solace would rest for at least another 5 hours – the modified Dreamless Sleep potion ensured a 12 hour sleep cycle. Severus stood up and tucked the covers around his son, and then sat down in the chair again, keeping his word to Solace that he would stay and watch over him for the night.  


It was a doubly good thing that he had owled Cristopher earlier this evening. As a Remissivo, Cristopher would be able to answer any questions Solace had regarding giving birth or becoming pregnant, dealing strictly from the Remissivo section of their race. Remissivo culture was very protective of their own, and quite frankly, only Remissivos knew the mechanics on giving birth, what the experience is like, what the signs and symptoms of pregnancy were, and everything else. Appoggiare’s and Dominante’s had inklings, since they did care for and witness the labor and birthings now-a-days, but Remissivos were very tightlipped about the process and instincts about it.  


For now though, Severus simply watched his son sleep.

~~

_July 31th 1:30 am_  
 _Little Hangleton_

The screams that rent the air of Riddle Manor were horrific. Already, three Death Eaters lay on the ground of the ante chamber, eyes staring blankly upwards in death. In between each scream, the sound of rushing fluid hitting wood floors and gasping sobs echoed within the room. Then the scream would begin again, so loud and ragged that it was a wonder that the one screaming hadn’t torn his throat open from the force of it.  


None of the other ‘loyal’ Death Eaters dared to enter the room after the first three had rushed to aid their master and had been punished for it.  


It had begun only a half hour ago, the Dark Lord suddenly tensing and then leaning over the arm of his chair and retching onto the floor. Blood and tissue lay in oozing tendrils on the wooden surface, and with a horrified look into the contents that he had vomited, more had been expelled from his throat and mouth.  


Now the Dark Lord lay on the floor in front of the chair, his body contorting and seizing in agony. His skin began to peel away from his skull, leaving it a bloody ruin, and blood seemed to be pushing out through the very pores on his body. Every time he had a moment to breathe, the pain would come back like a vicious claw through him, causing another seizure and vomiting. He couldn’t get control over himself in order to defend himself, and there was a fear deep in the core of what was left of his soul that he would be dying shortly. He could feel the agony of his organs beginning to shut down, and he was certain that the tissue and odd bloody lumps he was vomiting up were the inner lining of his stomach and intestines.  


He hadn’t had enough time yet to put his full plan into motion. He hadn’t had time to kill the Potter brat; he hadn’t had time to make his sixth horcrux using Nagini as a living host. The body he had received at the end of the Triwizard Tournament was weak at best, and he had spent the last year attempting to strengthen it with spells and potions. When he had confronted Potter at the Ministry, he had been taken aback at the boys magical strength. He had finally had to flee when Dumbledore had interfered with his attempt at possessing the boy and now the world knew that Lord Voldemort had returned.  


He had begun to make plans to protect the horcuxes that he did have, but had thought he would have had more time to do so after his experiment with Nagini bore the fruit of his efforts. Now with only 5 horcruxes with no one to protect them, this horrific attack on his person was ruining all of his plans!  


A roar of absolute agony and rage tore itself from his lips. A few moments later, the remaining Death Eaters heard absolutely nothing else. Hesitantly, the door to the antechamber creaked open, a trembling form in black robes scuttled into the room after being shoved through the opening and immediately slid in the puddle of blood that was making its way across the floor of the room. Lying at the center of all the blood was the Dark Lord – or rather, what was left of him.  


His body was arched in a rictus of agony, blood covering every surface of the dark wizard that could be seen, and drenching his robes. Fleshy bits of tissue and organs were scattered about the room within all of the blood. It seemed as if something had been attempting to force its way out from his forehead, and bloody, gore covered wing bones were laying underneath him. Red eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling, completely devoid of life.  


A silent, relieved sigh came from the black cloaked form, and tears of joy prickled at grey eyes. Composing himself, he went back to the doors and opened them fully. Draco Malfoy immediately moved aside so that the gathering of Death Eaters at the doorway could see the room fully.  


“The Dark Lord is dead.”

~~

_July 31th 9:00 am_  
 _Spinners End_

 

Sunlight filtered into the room, warming it and filling it with light. Light green eyes fluttered, shut again, and opened blearily. In an absent sort of way, he watched dust motes dance through beams of sunlight. His whole body ached, a deep ache that made him think of not stretching before a big quidditch match, or being ill. It was then that he realized that he could see clearly, without his glasses being on his face. Relief filled him, and a small, sleepy smile crossed his face. 

Taking a deep breath, he sluggishly turned his head and saw Severus sitting in his chair beside the bed, long fingers scanning down the page of a book in his lap. 

A soft chirr of sound escaped his throat and Severus looked up quickly.  


“Solace…how do you feel?” Severus asked, immediately closing the book and setting it aside.  


“Like I’ve been run over by the Knight Bus.” Solace answered with his throat rough from sleep. “What time is it?”  


“9:00 in the morning. Happy birthday.”  


Those two words made Solace’s face light up, and he flushed in happiness.  


“Thank you, sir.”  


“You’re very welcome. It is my hope that you might feel well enough for an outing today, but if you are still feeling poorly from your Ascension, we can do it another time.” Severus said, his dark eyes searching over Solace’s face.  


“So…I’m a creature.” He said bluntly.  


“Nomari’s are actually classified as dark beings, rather than dark creatures. When Wizarding Britain attempted to wipe us out by slaughtering flights of us, as well as those that might carry the gene within their genetic code, we fought back and won. While Wizarding Britain is forced to enact the charter that was drawn up at their defeat, we have mainly pulled out of Britain as a whole. Our children may attend Hogwarts if that is their wish, but most of us have other options in educating our children.”  


“So, I’m a being then. What, exactly, is the difference between being a creature, and a being anyways?” Solace asked, moving to sit up and wincing when his hands stopped his upward motion by pulling on his hair. “And what the bloody hell is this?”  


“That, Solace, is your hair.” Severus answered the latter question, rather than the former, because while he understood the boy’s feelings regarding a werewolf DADA instructor, Severus didn’t agree with him concerning said werewolf. “When your mother went through his Ascension, it actually grew to his knees. I estimate that your hair is waist length, but with all those curls it may be longer.” Severus smirked at his son, who scowled. “Regulus cut his to the small of his back, and normally kept it braided.”  


The words paused the huffy thoughts in Solace’s brain, the ones that said to hack it all off because this was ridiculous. His mother had worn his hair long, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to do the same. Surely, grooming charms would have progressed even further since then? The idea that formed in his head about having something like his mother’s cemented the desire to keep his hair long. It wouldn’t be that difficult to take care of, and he could easily toss it into a braid or a topknot.  


“Are you hungry?”  


“Starving, actually.” Solace said, moving the curls out of the way so that he could sit up in bed properly.  


“Then I have some potions for you to take before you eat. It will help to settle your stomach and have you retain more nutrients from your food. You need as much as you can get, unfortunately, in order to counteract the level of starvation you’ve gone through.”  


“Oh. Well, that’s alright then.” Solace said simply, “I would like to look better than a scarecrow, and if this will help, then so be it.”  


Severus said nothing, but the warmth was there in those dark eyes of his, and Solace felt comforted by it. Setting two potions on the table (one was a pale red, and the other a deep, clear blue), Severus then called for service.  


Standing there was Simmons, and he stared at Solace hard.  


“Little Master is doing better.” He stated firmly, and sniffed the air around him. “Simmons is saying his happiness for Little Masters Ascension.”  


“Uhm…thank you, Simmons.” Solace said, fidgeting under the weight of that stare.  


He wondered idly if there was anything that got past Simmons, and reckoned not.  


“We would like breakfast, Simmons. Porridge with raisins for myself, with coffee and the paper.”  


“Master is being having letters as well. Simmons will get them.” Simmons said with a firm nod, and his ancient blue eyes turned to Solace. “What is Little Master wanting?”  


“Dry toast with porridge, please. Pumpkin juice would be wonderful.” Solace said, and got another firm nod.  


“No heavy eatings until Little Master is much better. Simmons goes now.”  


With an almost silent pop, Simmons was gone.  


“Were you expecting letters, Severus?” Solace asked in the silence.  


“Actually yes. I sent off a missive to a good friend of mine, in the hopes that he could come by to visit and answer any questions that I am unable to. I only know so much, being an Appoggiare myself, and Cristopher has a far more extensive knowledge of Nomarian culture than I do.”  


“What is an Appoggiare?” Solace asked.  


“There are three inherent ranks among our kind, Solace. The Dominante’s, or the dominants are the alphas of the Flight you are in. Depending on the size of the Flight you are in, there can be between 1 to 5 Dominante’s in a Flight. They fight among themselves to establish a pecking order, and enforce the ruling of the prime Dominante.” Simmons popped into the room with two trays, the paper, and three envelopes that he handed to Severus before popping out again. “Dominante’s are often the fighters, protectors and heads of the Flights. Then there are the Appoggiare, or the supporting mates, they are more of a beta and can all have different roles within the Flight from healer to mediators. They support the Flight on a whole.  


“Then, there are the Remissivos. The submissives.” Severus continued, pausing in picking his tray up and staring at his son. “You eat, I’ll speak, Solace. You need as much on your belly as can be handled.”  


He waited until Solace had taken a spoonful of porridge before continuing.  


“The submissive holds a Flight together, and there is typically only one submissive per Flight. Twin Remissivos have occurred but they are extremely rare. They care for each Dominante and Appoggiare equally, bear the next generation of fledglings into the world, and help maintain the home that that flight lives in.”  


Solace frowned and looked at his father.  


“So the submissives are weaker than the others?”  


“Hardly. Your mother was a fighter, and magically powerful. Remissivo’s technically hold more magic than the other members of their Flight, and they have far more power over the others than most would admit. Bearing children doesn’t make one weaker.” Severus leveled a long look at his son. “If Dominante’s are the face of the Flight, and Appoggiare’s are the support, then the Remissivo’s are the steel backbone and flesh that holds it all together. You, Solace, are a Remissivo. And you are not weak in any shape or form.”  


Solace nodded slowly, eating more porridge before turning it away in the end. His stomach was too small to handle all of the porridge, and he hadn’t particularly liked the look Simmons had given him with his dire warning. He sighed deeply, before turning to his father.  


“I am an Appoggiare, not a Dominante or Remissivo. Your mother hadn’t yet chosen a Dominante and I was blessed to find him and to have him choose me as part of his Flight.” Severus cleared his throat, not admitting to the sudden bout of emotion welling up in his throat at talking about his mate. “We were young and foolish. When he fell pregnant with you, we were so happy and joyous. We had decided to turn against the Dark Lord, and were going to stay here until the next summer Gathering was scheduled.”  


“Gathering?” Solace asked, frowning at this new bit of information.  


“Every summer, Gatherings are scheduled for those who are still looking to complete their Flight. Remissivos are rare enough now that if we were to attend one, you would have many offers to consider. During the spring it’s customary for those Nomarians who are in a flight to gather and socialize, showing off their children and mates.”  


“Why didn’t you go to a Gathering after mum died?” Solace asked this with a hesitant look on his face.  


Severus paused, silently swallowing down the misery at hearing his child tell him that Severus’ mate was no longer among the living. It was a vicious thing with teeth that cut at his soul, devouring the hope that had sat there for so long. A little hope, but enough to keep him going.  


“It’s rare for an Appoggiare or a Dominante that was part of a first Flight, to be chosen for another if the submissive dies. It really depends on the circumstances of the death in question. If the Dominantes or the Appoggiares failed to protect the Remissivo, the entire Flight would be shamed and ostracized. Since your mother and I had barely begun our Flight – we were just barely tossing around names for our Flight it was that new – when he…disappeared, it was thought I had done something to displease him.”  


“So they ostracized you?” Solace demanded in horror.  


“No…but I wasn’t fully welcomed either. Which was fine by me, as I had no urge to find another other than your mother.” Severus said solemnly. “I had no idea that he had given birth to you. How is it you know so much of your mother?”  


“Sirius never stopped looking for him, for answers. Kreacher showed him the last memories he had of my mother, and saved those memories.” Solace fidgeted on the bed, and Severus got up and removed the tray from his lap. “How much of this do you want to hear…it may take a while.”  


“I would like to know everything you can tell me. When did you first realize that you weren’t Harry Potter?”  


“Last year during the Christmas break. Sirius showed me Regulus’ room over the summer at Grimmauld Place; it was there that the old wards of the house moved from him, to me. It would only work as a blood relative, and since Sirius was disowned, and as Regulus’ son, they fell to me. Sirius realized what that meant, and soon had me looking at the memories that mum had left behind, hidden away in his room. Memories of being pregnant with me, and memories of you and him doing mundane things.”  


One of the memories he had belonged to Kreacher. He’d been there when Regulus had given birth to Solace, hiding in the shadows of the room. The healer had apparently been given orders, because he obliviated his mother soon after his birth. He didn’t want to share that piece of information just yet. Something told him that he needed to keep some of these things privately. He still had the memories stored in empty potion’s vials in his trunk.  


He treasured the memory of his mother giving birth close to him. With so few memories of Lily and James being his ‘parents’, he hoarded the memories of his true mother.  


“The last memory I saw is of the night that my mother died. My real mother.” Solace said, instead. “He woke from sleep, and called for Kreacher to attend him into a cave. There, mum liberated a locket from the Dark Lord’s safeties, and ordered Kreacher away. Kreacher was supposed to destroy the locket, but he couldn’t.”  


There was a long throb of silence while Severus struggled to reconcile the great loss that was sweeping through him. His glorious little submissive truly was gone from this world. Bitterness tried to creep up in his throat as he thought of the little toad Kreacher, but he stamped it down. The crazy elf had loved Regulus to distraction.  


“What happened to it?” When Severus asked that question, Solace looked down at his hands. “Solace? The locket?”  


“It’s in my trunk.” Solace replied, not looking up from his hands. “Sirius had Kreacher give it to me if he couldn’t find a way to destroy the locket himself.”  


“He expected a boy to do his work for him?” Severus said with a slight sneer, but fell silent at the glower that Solace gave him.  


“He trusted me enough with the truth, and cared for me deeply. I never agreed with how he treated you and mother when he was a teenager. In fact, I told him how ashamed and upset I was once I discovered the lengths that the Marauders went to in order to humiliate you.” Solace said, his tone biting in its disappointment. “But he loved me. For just being me. And I loved him. If he couldn’t destroy the locket, then he trusted me enough to discover a way to do it myself. It’s a dark artifact and repelled any normal ways of destruction.”  


“What do you mean, ‘dark artifact’?” Severus sat forward in his urgency now.  


Solace sighed softly, trying not to let his tiredness drag him back into slumber. But now that his belly was full, the potions seemed to be more potent, not to mention the general exhaustion of his Ascension and the previous day weighing on him. It wasn’t every day that you were rescued from an abusive muggle by the father that didn’t know you existed, and taken to a Manor that seemingly popped out of nowhere to be pseudo-adopted by a seemingly crotchety house elf. He was tired, dammit.  


“The Dark Lord supposedly made six horcrux’s and the locket is one of them.” Solace said softly, reaching up absently to touch the scar on his forehead. “One was destroyed in my second year. I was the last one he made before he was destroyed when I was a baby.”  


“You are a horcrux.” Severus said in a dull voice before standing with a great flurry of motion, and beginning to pace. “Why wasn’t the Order told of this??”  


“For that you’d have to ask Dumbledore, because I don’t know. He is the one that told me that I was a horcrux, as well as telling me that I had no choice but to return to the Dursley’s for the summer hols. All I know is that my mother gave birth to me, and then I was with the Potters, and then the Dursley’s.” Solace said. “I don’t know for exactly what happened to get me to the Potters, but I do know that there was a Prophecy that a child born as the seventh month dies is destined to defeat the dark lord.”  


And here, Severus’ mouth twisted and he snarled.  


“That batty old witch.” He spat. Getting up to pace, he continued, “To my utter shame, it is my fault that the Dark Lord heard of the prophecy. I was a new initiate at the time, and I was already under great suspicion. I had joined because I had believed in many of the political speeches and ideals that he had used on our generation. Further separation from Muggles, stricter penalties on muggleborns purposely trying to expose our world to muggles not in the family, the right to practice the grayer sides of magic, especially family magics. When I heard the so called prophecy, I took it to the Dark Lord and asked him to spare my old friend Lily Potter. A few months later, your mother and I had begun planning our defection from the Dark, especially as his time to give birth drew near. We had become very disillusioned with the Dark Lord, his punishments, his insanity. The next thing I knew, suddenly, he had gone to the Potters and only their son survived.”  


“But he made Horcruxes.” Solace said softly, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.  


“Yes, yes he did apparently, but at the time, we knew nothing of it. You only just informed me of the one you carry today, and the others that are out there. Looking back on his behavior, the sheer amount of the horcruxes could be why he was so insane. It was very different than what our parents, and older members of the Dark Sect had told us. Who told you of the horcruxes, and the Prophecy?”  


“Dumbledore told me of the Prophecy, saying that I was the child that would defeat the dark lord. He told me that the night that he came to kill the Potters, that the Dark Lord had planned to use my death for his seventh horcrux. He told me that the horcrux in my scar could have been used to bring him back to life.”  


Severus frowned, remembering the intensity of Nomarian magic over the scar on his son’s forehead, the faint pulse of green magic, and the eerie, high pitched scream before it had dissipated. He didn’t dare bring up the subject quite yet, he wanted to do some research first so he could give his son something concrete, rather than just hypotheses.  


“Let me hear the whole Prophecy that Professor Dumbledore told you. Please.” Severus said the last in an attempt to sway the stubborn look on his sons face.  


And it was the one word that made Solace tell him the entirety of the Prophecy as he knew it. Severus sat in his chair, tapping long fingers against his upper lip as he thought about the words his son spoke.  


“We must do some research into what the Prophecy could mean, but for now, let us just concentrate on getting you better. We have plenty of time to decide what to do when you have recovered from your Ascension.” Severus said, calling for service so that the breakfast trays could be taken away.  


Severus bent and picked up the letters and newspaper that had fallen to the floor when he had stood to pace. He looked at the missives, one from Cristopher, one from Draco and a letter from Gringotts, and then he glanced at the paper.  


And he would deny it to his dying day, but he felt weak in the knees at the headlines.  


“You-Know-Who And 3 Death Eaters Dead!”


	7. A Glimmer In The Distance

_July 31th 10:30 am_  
 _Spinners End_

 

Half an hour after reading the shocking headline, Severus and Solace had retired to the more intimate sitting room rather than the formal one. Severus had taught his son the charm Regulus had used to braid his hair with chin length bangs, and Severus was struck just how beautiful the boy was. The features that he had spent attributing to himself or to Regulus were amplified by the length of hair. The changes that his Ascension had wrought had merely turned the features that were there into a more androgynous feature. Framed by the inky, curly black hair, those impossibly light green eyes framed with devastatingly long black lashes, the pale moonlit skin that was a lovely contrast, Solace Rafael Black was magnificent.  


Severus had shrunk a simple set of trousers and a lightweight sweater. Solace had complained of being chilly, and until his son’s body was set rights, he would experience such chills often. Severus gave Solace a pair of socks to put on his slender feet, and covered Solace’s lap with a pale blue throw blanket. He did keep Spinners End chilly in the summer, for his own comfort. He made an absent mental note to adjust the temperature in the house because he was no longer the only one living in it at the moment.  


He was very thankful that Spinners End’s floo system was warded, or he was certain that he would be hearing the bellowing of the headmaster right about now.  


“What happened?” Solace asked, trying to make sense of the article that graced the front page of the Daily Prophet. “How much of this is real, and how much of this is just flimsy reporting?”  


The article described what appeared to be a dark ritual gone wrong, listing the blood soaked floors, the bits of organs littered about the room, and the strange and grotesque morphing of the Dark Lord’s body. Three Death Eaters had been killed, signs of having been tortured beforehand, and the Dark Lord had been bled to death. Curse-Breakers and the Department of Mysteries were still examining the bodies of the dead and the surrounding area of a muggle manor named Riddle Mansion, in Little Hangleton. It was not known why the Dark Lord was hiding there, or why he had done the dark ritual there, but what was known was this.  


The three Death Eaters were Vincent Crabbe, Walton McNair and the second shocker of the case – Peter Pettigrew. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was heavily scouring their files on how this could be, however it could not be denied that it was Peter Pettigrew. Currently, they had taken the Sirius Black case files, and labeled them as ‘on-going’.  


Severus looked at his left arm, frowning as he realized that the Dark Mark had faded, much as it had so long ago when his son defeated the Dark Lord. He’d felt no twinging, no pain from the mark, even last night. But, upon reading the article, he now felt far more confident than before about his son’s horcrux.  


“I believe what happened is actually quite simple. When the Dark Lord took your blood to bring himself back to life at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, he got the blood of a Nomarian child who hadn’t gone through his Ascension. So while he had your blood, everything else had been his own including his genetic code. So when you went through your Ascension, your blood within his body attacked him. Since he didn’t have the genes to become a Nomarian, it tried to force his body to accept changes which was impossible. The magic tore him apart.”  


“So the connection that I had with him-“  


“Should be no more.” Severus said simply. “We’ll have a Nomarian healer or Curse-Breaker have a thorough look at you soon, but looking at your scar now I believe that the horcrux there is gone. It is a far more faint color, almost nonexistent in comparison to what it had been yesterday. As if it truly had finally healed, as it should have done in the past 14 and ½ years.”  


There was silence as Solace pondered this thought. It did make sense, how Severus explained it. Absent, he raised his hand to his scar and rubbed it, feeling only smooth skin where once before it would have been raised and red. The thought that he was free of the horcrux brought a small, but beautiful smile to his face.  


“So he’s gone, then?”  


“Unfortunately, much like that Halloween night, he’s not quite gone completely. We still have 4 horcruxes to look into, including the locket in your trunk.” Severus said sadly, frowning down at the unopened letters in his hand. “We need more information than what we have currently.”  


“Which means we need to ask the headmaster.”  


“Perhaps.” Severus drawled, sighing as he tore the one open from Cristopher first.  


After a moment, Severus spoke again.  


“My friend Cristopher has asked to call on us tomorrow afternoon. He’s asked if he could bring one of his Appoggiare with him as he is currently pregnant and would need the help to get here.” Severus looked at his son, who looked blankly back.  


“Oh…” Solace said, biting at his lower lip gently before he realized what Severus meant. “Oh, you’re asking me if it’s okay?”  


“This is your house as much as mine, Solace.” Severus said with a dry smile. “You are my son.”  


“Oh. I… I suppose it’ll be alright. I’ll feel better tomorrow, I think.” Solace said, glancing up at his father for approval.  


“Quite.” Severus said, “I’ll send him a letter soon then.”  


Draco’s letter was next, and he opened it as he watched his son reading a book that Severus had suggested to him that was far more factual about Nomarians and their culture than anything found in Britain. He was pleased that his son had not complained and seemed rather enthralled with it. With a small, pleased smile on his face, he looked to the letter that his Godson had penned him. With a soft oath, he put his head in his hand and reread it.  


“It seems that, for once, the Daily Prophet is rather on the mark. Draco’s initiation was supposed to happen last night at the pressure of his Aunt. He was the one that found the bodies and anonymously alerted the authorities. While the rest of the Death Eaters have fled, Draco is floundering on the amount of dark artifacts that his aunt has left him. He’s asked for my help in getting rid of them, as I have far more experience than he on what is truly cursed, and what is merely jinxed.”  


“Are you going to help him then?” Solace asked after a tense moment.  


Severus looked up and saw Solace fidgeting under the light throw blanket on his legs. Solace didn’t like the idea of Severus helping Draco and he frowned at it.  


“He is my godson, Solace. I know you two have never gotten on-“  


“It’s not that, sir. Well,” He amended, “Not completely that. I just…had hoped we would be spending more time together. Get used to one another this summer before going back to Hogwarts.”  


“I see.” Severus said, frowning now at the quandary he now found himself.  


He most assuredly wanted to spend time with his son, but he also knew he couldn’t escape the cry for help his Godson had given him.  


“It’s…it’s not a big deal,” Solace said after a moment.  


“Actually, it is,” Severus argued. “While I do want to spend time with you, this has been the cry for help I have been waiting all summer for from Draco. Perhaps a happy medium could be found.”  


“…perhaps.” Solace said softly, looking back down at the book.  


Severus knew that tactic, it was done in an effort to move someone’s attention from his person, and to change the subject. He knew he’d not get anything else out of him at the moment, and so he turned to the missive from Gringotts. Pleased with the news of Severus’ heir, his account goblin Bogrod had suggested that he make Solace the Prince heir as well. Bogrod knew that Severus was a Nomari, and knew of his mateship with Regulus Black as well. Bogrod suggested that Severus talk to his son about the Black heirlooms and properties, as well as becoming the Black heir as well.  


It would take a little bit of time, but Severus vowed to take care of these matters before he suggested to Solace about attending this summer’s Gathering. Glancing through his mental calendar, Severus realized that it was only Thursday. The Gathering would begin this Sunday at midday, officially, and last until just before September 1st. He had plenty of time to handle the forms at Gringotts, as well as talk his son into a new wardrobe. Although, to be honest, he’d find better fitting garments at the vendors where the Gathering was held, more suited to the Nomarian body type.  


He still needed wizarding attire nonetheless.  


“Solace, tomorrow before Christopher comes to call, I would like to go for our outing. You’re in dire need of a wardrobe, and I would like to purchase a birthday present for you.”  


“You don’t have to, Pro- I mean Severus…” Solace said the last word with a blushing shyness.  


“There is no doubt that you need proper wizarding attire, Solace. And you are my son, as I keep reminding you, as such; you deserve gifts from your father. I am sorry that I do not have anything for you today.”  


Solace stared at Severus, and he could feel the weight of his sons stare like lead in his gut. Then a soft smile crossed Solace’s face, and he ducked his head down in a nod. “Alright.”  


Severus smiled back at Solace and replied warmly, “Alright.”  


Both dark haired men turned to their own pursuits with pleased smiles on their faces, and the faint blush on high cheekbones.

~~

The rest of the day was spent in mostly quiet introspection. Neither really felt the need to talk and fill the silence with inane chatter, and while Solace read his book, Severus wrote letters to Gringotts and Christopher. Severus suggested that once the Gathering began, Severus could Apparate between the two locations periodically. Draco would be going through his own inheritance soon as well, they had been preparing for it for the last two years. While not a Nomari, Draco was a half-blood Veela through the Malfoy genes.  


While this didn’t surprise Severus in the least, as he had expected it, Solace was in fact very surprised. At lunch, Solace asked about it.  


“I’m surprised that Malfoy is so accepting of his inheritance.”  


“Why do you say that?” Severus asked, looking up from his book at the dining table.  


“He always preached about being a pureblood, how anyone with dirty blood was something to be ashamed of.”  


“Ah, I see.” Severus wiped his mouth and saved his place in the book he was reading. “You assume that the dirty blood he spoke of is the mixture of creature heritage, as well as muggle.”  


“Well, yeah.” Solace said, putting his spoon back in the bowl. “Isn’t it?”  


“Many purebloods have creature blood in their ancestry. They consider muggle blood to be the only type of dirty blood, creature blood is the exception. I agree that it’s an antiquated point of view, but eons of that kind of ideology being thrust on someone is hard to change in one generation.” Severus took a sip of his cup of tea and placed it back in its delicate china saucer. “New blood must be introduced to the gene pool in order for it to flourish. Too many families have simply been so corrupted by inbreeding so as to wipe themselves out of existence. Unfortunately, too, Britain is not known for its forward thinking. As far as the whole wizarding world is concerned, Britain is trapped in the dark ages. While many of the other countries in the magical world thrive on diversity and adapting to change, Britain has stayed forever stagnant.”  


“I feel like I should argue with you, but I see your point.”  


“Just because I see my magical countrymen as sheeple, doesn’t mean I’m still not a patriot.” Severus said with a wry smile. “I had thought, once upon a time, to move to Italy, where Nomarian culture thrives. Your mother and I had plans on it, actually.”  


“Where were you going to go?”  


“When Britain made it obvious that Nomarian’s were not welcome within its borders, despite the laws being written into effect, other countries opened their doors for refugees; Italy has the highest number of Nomarian population, as does America, Switzerland and Austria. Italy, however, is the mother-land of our kind. We have been heavily influenced by the language and culture; even the ranks of our breed are Italian. Just off of the coast is an island that has been heavily warded and concealed from muggle eyes, that is where the Nomarian seat of power rests. As such, we’re protected by the ICW, much to Brtain’s upset.”  


Solace sat there for a moment, and sighed dejectedly.  


“There’s so much I don’t know about anything. I feel as if I’m struggling up a sheer cliff with only my hands.”  


Severus looked at his son in surprise and then thought about what he was saying. Immediately, he winced at the realization that it had only been a single day since he’d rescued Solace from the Dursley’s home. While Solace had said that he’d known he was Regulus and Severus’ child for a year, that didn’t necessarily mean that he was completely acclimated to the idea. Throw in the Nomarian Ascension, the change in location and treatment for the abusive treatment, and it was bound to make him flounder. He sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose.  


He himself had made the transition so quickly it was bound to make the boys head spin. He had made the distinction quickly and solidly, attributing the ease of transition due to his many years as a spy and the sheer fact that he didn’t want to think too hard on his treatment of the boy that was once Harry Potter. He’d been abominable, and had more than earned the scorn of the boy in front of him.  


“I apologize, Solace. I should not throw so much at you at once, especially on the day you are to be recovering from your Ascension.” Severus said softly, “I can only excuse it to pure selfishness; I do not want to think back too hard on the way I treated you as a student, and the fact that in my desire to change I am trying to give you as much information as I can so that you are aware of your options in this new life.” He looked at his son and braced himself for the bout of temper he had come to expect with the brash Gryffindor. “That and the fact that my Nomarian instincts are trying to over compensate for my failings as your teacher as well as your father.”  


“You didn’t know you were my father though,” Solace argued, looking at Severus in confusion. “How can you apologize for being something you didn’t know you were?”  


“Nevertheless, it is why I am treating you the way that I am.” Severus said after a moment, unable to come up with an answer to the boys questions.  


“I’ve known you were my father for almost a full year. Sirius told me what he knew, and with the memories I got from Kreacher we pieced most everything together. Yes, you were a ruddy awful teacher to me, and yes, if we’re being honest, I did blame you for Sirius’ death before I could sit down and think on it. Then with the Headmaster telling me about the horcruxes and prophecy, and the whole Vernon situation, I really took a long look at my life. I don’t want to fight this war. I just want to be left alone so I can be myself and find out who that is. I could still be angry and frustrated and furious, but that would accomplish nothing.” Solace said solemnly. “I’ve spent so long marching to the Headmaster’s tune that I’ve lost sight of who I am, in trying to be who he thinks I need to be.”  


Severus considered his sons words and acknowledge the truth and underlying message that the boy was telling him. Severus could do no less than help him in any way he knew he could, because if Severus had been in the boys position he knew he wouldn’t be handling this as well as Solace was.  


“Do you still identify yourself as Harry Potter?” Severus asked curiously.  


Solace was silent, thinking on the question which definitely raised his opinion of the boy. He’d expected some rash answer, not the quiet contemplation of the boy.  


“In some ways, Harry Potter will never leave me. Some of the attributes of Harry Potter will always be a part of me, the fierce loyalty, the need to protect my friends, even the desire to please. But part of the reason that I asked you to call me Solace is so that I could become use to it, and find out what attributes fit with this new identity. Sirius helped me as much as he could once we realized just how much I had been manipulated. But we couldn’t really practice on finding out who I really am under all the bloody games.” Solace said slowly, each word weighed and judged before he spoke them. “Do I think you were a right git in school? Yes. Do I take it personally? No, not anymore. I stopped being a child when I was forced to aid the Dark Lord in returning, probably even before that when Vernon really began to beat the tar out of me in second year. I can’t play childish games of blame anymore; I have to be an adult.”  


Severus stared at the boy in front of him, considering his words carefully.  


“The only thing that I can do now is to protect you until you choose your mates, and give you options to choose from for the rest of your life.” Severus said. “I want you to make the decisions for your future, not have them laid out for you like a map to follow. As much as my instincts scream at me to hide you away until you are well, to smother you in security and protection until you can’t see straight anymore, I know that you’ve had very little control of your life. You will catch on to the things I tell you about what you are, what we are, and it will be sooner than you think. Part of it is instinctual, and the other is your determination to find your sense of self. This is a large part of who you are, and who you will be.”  


Solace nodded slowly, and began to eat his broth before eventually pushing it away.  


“I can’t say that I won’t argue with you,” Solace said softly, “But I can say that I’ll try not to blow up and be rash like I was. So much of that anger was at the situations I found myself in, rather than at the people I was blowing up at.”  


“You have every right to be angry. You have every right to feel out of control, frustrated and lost. So much has happened this past year, not to mention the years prior, that you’ve really yet to deal with. I highly doubt you were able to properly grieve for your godfather, for Diggory’s death, as well as your mothers. Let alone the Potters, who loved you dearly. Even I can admit that they did, despite my loathing of James Potter.”  


“They died for me, to protect me, even though I wasn’t theirs. I’m indebted to them, and their memory. But I had no business being at the Dursley’s, and I won’t be forced into the role Harry Potter was slotted to be in.”  


“I do have one question, though.” Severus said.  


“What’s that?”  


“This locket that you speak of, being a horcrux and all. You said that you still have it. With my visiting Draco off and on throughout the next few weeks, I wonder if perhaps you could let me handle it for a while. I want to familiarize myself with the feel of the dark magic within it, so that if The Dark Lord gave anything to the Lestranges that might be a horcrux I can identify it and can handle it properly.”  


“Do you really think that he gave them a horcrux to take care of?”  


“He might have, Solace. They, along with Lucius Malfoy, were his favored followers. He would trust them to handle such things with care.”  


“That would explain the diary.”  


“The diary?” Severus asked.  


“Yes, the diary. In my second year, Lucius Malfoy slipped a horcrux into Ginny Weasley’s cauldron. It was a diary, and it possessed her into releasing Slytherin’s monster into the school.” Now Solace looked confused. “I though Dumbledore would have said something to the staff about all the petrifications and Ginny’s possession.”  


“In your second year?” Severus asked for clarification. When Solace nodded to him, Severus grit his teeth. “We were told that it had simply been handled, and that it posed no further danger to the school and its students. We all simply assumed that he had taken care of it once Miss Weasley had been taken to the chamber. You were not mentioned at all.”  


“That’s not what happened at all. There was a basilisk, that’s what was petrifying the students and Sir Nicholas. The Dark Lord’s horcrux had possessed Ginny, and was painting the messages, as well as letting the basilisk petrify students. Ron and I caught Lockhart trying to run away, and forced him down into the chamber with us. He confessed to being a hack, and had obliviated those that had done the work that he claimed he had done in his books. He was going to obliviate us as well, but he used Ron’s wand, which was broken, and it backfired. Ron stayed with him, and I went into the Chamber of Secrets.  


“Then, I saw the diary by Ginny, and she was pale and unconscious. Standing beside her was the form of Tom Riddle.” Solace took a drink and continued. “Tom Riddle was a halfblood, who later became the Dark Lord, using an anagram of his name. He was leaching Ginny’s life away, and then Fawkes showed up, dropping the Sorting Hat on me, and within it was Gryffindor’s Sword. Fawkes scratched out the basilisk’s eyes, and then Tom set it on my trail. In the end, I stabbed the sword up into the basilisk’s mouth, but one of its fangs punctured my arm. I crawled to Ginny, and took the fang from my arm, and then stabbed it through the diary. Later, I found out that it had destroyed the horcrux inside of it. We escaped the Chamber by using Fawkes to pull us, and took Ginny to the hospital wing.”  


There was a great beat of silence then Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.  


“None of that was told to us during the staff meetings after the fact. How foolish we were not to ask questions.”  


“You trusted that Dumbledore could and would handle those kinds of dangerous things,” Solace said softly. “So did I, but soon after that I came to the conclusion that he was only using me for his own purposes. I just didn’t realize just how much control he had over my life, and how far his machinations went.”  


“I don’t think we’ve seen the last of his machinations, not for a long while.” Severus said darkly.  


“At least, I’m not alone in it anymore. I have you to help me.” Solace said happily, and then concentrated on his broth.  


Severus stared at his son for a moment, and refused to admit that the heat he felt on his cheeks was actually a faint blush. To hide his pleased embarrassment, Severus simply returned to his lunch, and ignored the sensation of a smile on his lips. His son felt that confident in his skills, to actually believe that Severus would have his back. Not that he wouldn’t have Solace’s back, but the simple faith in his abilities pleased him.  


He’d do his best not to break that faith.


	8. I'm Waking Up, I Feel It In My Bones

_July 31th 7:45 pm_  
 _Spinners End_

 

Petunia and Dudley hadn’t left their rooms for the day, which was fine. Solace couldn’t help but think that they felt lost in this new world they found themselves in. Part of him was very worried that they would return to Vernon, but Solace knew that Dudley wouldn’t let his mother go back to Vernon. He would do anything to protect her from harm.

Solace sat on the bed in his room, contemplating the changes within himself. He was a Nomarian Remissivo, the son of Regulus Black and Severus Snape – or would that be Severus Prince, considering that his father was the last of them? He’d have to ask in the morning.

He was utterly exhausted. His whole body ached, though it did get easier to handle throughout the day. Severus had said that by tomorrow, the pain would more or less be gone, and he’d be able to wander about as he pleased. Though Solace knew that he could have done that today, he merely didn’t have the energy to do so. Instead, he had stuck by his father, trying to get to know him as best as possible.

The instincts that his father had been warning him about were there, just under the surface of his consciousness. He could feel them, the need to be by his father because he was unmated, his father may have been Appoggiare, but in his instincts mind he was the closest Nomarian of rank around. The book Severus had given him to read was very informative, and he could only think that it had to have been printed in another country, since Severus had said that anything of Nomarian nature written in wizarding Britain was basically trash. It said that over the next week or so, he would be easily unsettled as his instincts grew.

It would take months for them to become his second nature, until he could trust his instincts like a first instinct, but the book reassured him that it would come in time. The easiest way to do so was to simply accept the changes that had happened to him and not to fight the instincts as they came.

There wasn’t a lot of information regarding getting pregnant, carrying the baby and giving birth. It did say that it was a closely guarded secret among Remissivos, so closely kept that even the Appoggiare and Dominante’s in a mateship wouldn’t speak of it. There was plenty of supposition on the subject, but from what he understood nothing was concrete. The secret was passed from Remissivo to Remissivo within a Flight – from mother to child. 

Which meant that only another Remissivo could answer his questions. He knew that Severus had said that his friend Christopher was a Remissivo, and he wondered if Severus had asked the stranger to explain things to him. Severus did say that he would answer questions that Severus would be unable to. But didn’t that mean that they could talk amongst themselves about all things related to pregnancy? Or maybe it was just to outsiders that they didn’t talk about it to. That would make sense, Solace thought with a nod.

So much had changed within 24 hours, and he could feel the control slipping out of his fingers. Sometimes it was choking him, the panic that this wasn’t real, that he was stuck under Vernon’s boot again, that he was forced to smile and go on without mourning his godfather and Cedric. He struggled to control his breathing, feeling his heart lurching wildly within his chest. Panicking about it wouldn’t do anyone any good. He was strong enough to control himself, he could do this, and he refused to fall apart now that he was safe.

Or as safe as he was ever going to get.

Instead, he focused on being a Nomarian Remissivo, and what that entailed. The book his father gave him described a courtship process that was a little confusing to him. Well, to be honest, it was all confusing to him. Though it interested him, it was very different than what he was familiar with. And while he could understand that because he hadn’t been brought up within the Nomarian community where he’d have known all of this before his Ascension, it was still frustrating.

There were two stages to a Nomarian courtship. Remissivos searching for their mates would each have a wizard tent within the Gathering’s arena, where they would unfurl their magic inside the tent. The magic would saturate the area around the tent, and the Dominante’s and Appoggiare’s would walk around the tents to see if the magic was compatible with the Remissivo’s. The book really didn’t actually have an explanation on how to unfurl their magic, and had just said that they would.

The next stage was designed for Dominante’s and Appoggiare’s to prove their worth; back in ancient times it was customary to woo the Remissivo’s with gifts of jewels, gold, silks and furs. Since the book had been written only about a century ago, Solace wondered if that was still the case. He didn’t know how he’d feel about being offered gifts for his attention; it felt too much like buying love, and Solace wanted no part of that.

The book said, very blatantly, that instincts would take over and guide the young Remissivo to the right partners. Solace didn’t know what to think of that; it just seemed to him that it was just one more thing out of his control, one more thing thrust upon him without asking if he could carry anything more. Before he could get too maudlin, he jerked a lid over the drowning sensation he was feeling. He’d deal with it later. There was little choice in the matter. He needed mates; there was no question about that. The book he’d read had had a few horror stories in its pages, talking about the things that Remissivo’s went through when they were unmated and breeding instincts came over.

One such story had spoken of a young Remissivo who had ignored her instincts, denied having mates because if she didn’t have mates, then she could have been a normal young witch. As time went on past her 16th birthday, she had described hallucinations, seizures, increased paranoia and often had flown into violent rages. Two mates had stayed near her at all times, unable to fight their own instincts regarding their Remissivo mate. A year after her 16th birthday, she had killed the mates that had stood by her side whether she wanted them to or not, and then herself. She had been four months pregnant.

It was stories like that that made him so frightened by the changes he was going to undertake. As much as a part of him wanted to deny what was going on within him, he most certainly didn’t want to die. He was reassured, though, that the alien sensation of his developing instincts within him would fade within the next month. The book had said that those Nomarians who had had no warning that this could happen to them had described the sensations of their new instincts as foreign and unfamiliar, and that it took about a month to settle.

If he were honest with himself, he was rather excited about the other aspects of being a Nomarian. Having wings, flying without a broom, was fascinating. He couldn’t wait to fly!

His whole life was going to be so different than what he’d once thought it would be, what he’d planned on it to be. He struggled not to give in to the urge to laugh hysterically or cry hysterically. He felt off kilter, and it was getting harder and harder to find his balance. He had no idea who he was anymore; though he’d known for a year that he was Severus Snape’s son, he had still clung to the thought that it didn’t change who he was inside.

But now, with this creature inheritance, he wondered just how much of a mask he had been wearing. Had he really been that blinded to anything not Gryffindor? When his father had asked him about how much of Harry Potter still lived in him, he’d been thrown. He had fooled himself, desperate to have friends and people to love him, and the mask had been so ingrained that he’d believed it was really him for years. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder just how much was left within him.

He couldn’t go back in time and change things, nor would he really want to. He’d had good experiences, though they were far between the great massive bad ones, and if he could go back and change things he wouldn’t have had those experiences in his life. But now, now he had the chance to discover who he really was outside of the masks of Harry Potter, and it thrilled and frightened him both.

With a shuddering sigh, Solace changed his clothes into a fresh set of pajamas. Though it was still early yet, he was tired and wanted to go to bed. Tomorrow, from the sounds of it was going to be a busy, busy day. He knew Severus wanted to take him to shop for a suitable wardrobe, and he was actually dreading it a little. Though he didn’t have all that much experience in shopping for himself, he didn’t know what to expect on this jaunt. But his father had asked, and really what was the harm in going to pick up clothes for him to wear?

Solace absently reached up and untied the braid from his hair, letting the curls fall as they wanted to. He kept the side part over his right eye, so that the bangs swooped over enough to cover the familiar lightning bolt scar. Climbing into the plush bed and under the covers, Solace smothered a yawn and wondered to himself if there were potions to help minimize the appearance of scars. He wanted them gone, wanted no identifying marks to tie him back to being Harry Potter.

Between one thought and the next, Solace fell asleep and was so deeply in the land of nod that he didn’t wake to feel his father brush his hair away from his face as he checked on him during the night.

~~

_August 1st 8:30 am_  
 _Spinners End_

 

The next morning, Severus was eating his breakfast in the main dining room, feeling a sense of déjà vu stealing over him as he sorted through his mail. Yesterday had been surprisingly comfortable around his son. He’d anticipated arguments and bickering, but he’d been pleasantly surprised to see how quiet Solace was. The boy had his own way of doing things, and Severus wasn’t about to push Solace to talk when he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to pressure the boy into talking, because it would just fail and push Solace farther away from him.

And Severus couldn’t bear to think about ostracizing Solace and having the boy turn his back on their developing relationship.

Flipping through the mail, he tossed the rag that was the Daily Prophet away from him, their headlines screaming about the death of the dark lord and the fear that he could come back, as he obviously had before. The press and the public were crying for Fudge’s blood, and apologizing profusely for doubting The-Boy-Who-Lived. Severus was amused to note that there was no apology to Dumbledore. Scanning through the envelopes in his hand, he was glad to see there was no summons from the Headmaster. At least not yet. With the hubbub about the Dark Lord’s latest death, Severus was certain to be called into the man’s office to plot, and he wanted no part of it. He had more important things to care about, such as providing his son with creature comforts and attention.

He didn’t want to think about the fact that by September 1st Solace would more than likely be mated and concerning himself with his mates. Severus had the selfish worry that he wouldn’t get to spend time with his son, even as he knew that the boy would have his own life to focus on. He desperately wanted a relationship with Solace, and he would concentrate on building a solid one as much as Solace would let him.

A noise alerted him that one of the human occupants of Spinners End was up, and he watched the open doorway of the dining room. Petunia walked into the room carefully, as if waiting for some kind of ambush around the corner. Her pale blue dress made her eyes seem bluer, and her hair was tied back in a loose bun. When she saw Severus she paused for a moment before coming further into the room and sitting at the table.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dursley,” Severus said, and called for a house elf. “Would you care for breakfast?”

“Thank you, Severus.” Petunia said softly, and ordered sausage, toast, eggs and juice.

When the elf popped away, Petunia turned to look at Severus.

“I have some questions, if you don’t mind.”

Severus blinked at the woman, before nodding his head for her to continue.

“You’ll be returning to Hogwarts soon. What will happen to Dudley and I?”

Severus paused for a moment, thinking on the question.

“Am I to understand that you left divorce papers for Vernon?” Severus asked.

“I did; but a divorce can take months, and we don’t have that kind of time. I …I hate to take advantage of the kindness you’ve shown my son and I, but we have no place left to go. Vernon spent so much of his time isolating us from neighbors and friends that we have no one to turn to.”

“I imagine that was why your son turned to mine for help. He’s known for extraordinary things, and you needed something extraordinary to escape.” Severus said, taking a sip of his strong, black coffee. “Your son is enrolled in school?”

“Yes, Stonewall. His tuition for this year has already been paid for; I’m not looking for a handout, Severus.”

“Nor was I going to offer one.” Severus didn’t lower his eyes as Petunia examined him closely, looking for any sign of lies or deceit. When she nodded, Severus continued. “With this year already paid for, you only have to worry about the next two years. You need a residence and safety from your soon-to-be-ex-husband. There is little doubt that even if he signs the papers, he will do his best to find you and make you pay. It is the way men like him operate.”

“As much as I want to argue with that, it’s what Vernon would do.” Petunia said softly, and then waited as the house elf came in with her breakfast. When the elf popped away again, she sighed. “I just don’t know where to turn. Everything is so chaotic, and I’m panicking almost as badly as I was within that house.”

“Is it possible that you would receive the house as part of the divorce settlement?”

“I didn’t think of that.” Petunia said after a moment of surprised contemplation. “I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t listen very well to the barrister when he was explaining the papers he drew up. I just wanted the papers, and immediately signed them.”

“You were grasping at the relief that you’d be free of him sooner, rather than later.” Severus said with a nod. “Understandable, especially considering the circumstances.”

They ate in silence for a moment, before Severus said quietly, “You may stay here, Petunia, for the reminder of the summer. My son and I will more than likely be leaving for a small holiday, so the house would be all yours. I would ask that you not go anywhere by yourself, and if you have to return to Privet Drive, you ask the police to escort you. I would not have you injured because you were tempted to be brave.”

“I will. Thank you Severus.” Petunia said gratefully.

A soft shuffle of sound had Severus looking up, and he was pleased to see his son rubbing at his eyes sleepily as he made his way to the table.

“Good morning, Aunt Petunia.” Solace murmured, before smothering yawn.

“Good morning, Harry.” Petunia said hesitantly.

Severus cleared his throat slightly at the name, but then realized that while Solace and he were attempting to acclimate themselves to the new name, they hadn’t told Petunia or Dudley anything. So while Solace ordered breakfast, Severus began to explain why Solace wasn’t truly Harry, much to Petunia’s shock.

“If he wasn’t Lily’s son, why did Dumbledore leave him with us when she died?” Petunia asked in horror.

“We still don’t know. It’s quite likely we will never know.” Severus said quietly, shaking his head in frustration.

Severus looked up at his son, and caught a rather torn expression on his beautiful face. As if he wanted to say something, but had changed his mind. When his gaze lifted to Severus’, he raised a dark eyebrow at his son. But the boy merely shook his head and turned back to his lunch. Giving his son an inscrutable look, he turned his attention back to Petunia.

“So you really have no reason to take care of us, since we’re not related,” Petunia said with a look to Solace.

“If it had been three days ago, and if Solace wasn’t my son…I can’t say that I would have helped. I might have, since your situation is not so unlike my own mother’s, but I can’t honestly say I would.” Severus said after a moment of deciding to tell the truth or not. “I am not…the most empathic of men.”

He glowered at Solace who’d had the audacity to snicker, even if he had tried to hide it with a cough. The young man might have succeeded with the ruse, if those green eyes hadn’t been sparkling with mirth.

“In any case, thank you for doing what you’ve done, and helping us get on our feet.” Petunia said softly. “We had no one else to turn to.”

Severus looked at Petunia for a moment, before nodding his head.

“You’re quite welcome.”

With that, everyone turned to their breakfast again. In short order, everyone was finished and Petunia made noises about visiting the Prince Library for something to read and occupy her time. Dudley had taken breakfast in his rooms, and was content to his thoughts for the time being apparently. When Petunia returned to her room, Severus transfigured the pajamas and dressing robe on his sons’ body into a simple outfit of trousers, a green collared shirt and open style robes that flared when he walked.

“These will have to do until we acquire a more appropriate wardrobe,” Severus said, smirking as his son groaned at the injustice of it all. “I’m going to take you to a shopping district that caters to Nomarian’s. Many of their clothes are designed with our wings in mind, making it easier to shift into our Halfling form. They also had muggle style clothes and wizarding attire which isn’t so different with the exception of robes.”

“Joy and rapture,” Solace grumbled and scowled when the older man laughed at his plight.

“It won’t take very long. They simply take your measurements, and the clothes are made to fit. It should only take a few days. Many of the core clothes won’t take very long at all, while the more intricate items may take longer in order to assure a quality item.” Severus explain, and moved them to the large, ornate fireplace in the receiving room of the house.

Taking a pinch of floo powder in his hand, and handing Solace the bowl to grab his own powder, Severus returned it to the black marble mantle. 

“The place we’re going is _Il Drago di Dancing_.” Severus waited until Solace had pronounced it properly, ensuring that the boy wouldn’t end up anywhere else like his first run in with the floo system. “I’ll go first.”

Severus stepped into the massive, black marble fireplace and called out “ _Il Drago di Dancing_.” With a whoosh of green flames, the dark man was gone. Solace let out a soft, put upon sigh. He hated shopping, and worse yet he hated the floo. With much grumbling under his breath, Solace stepped into the fireplace. Tossing the floo powder into the flames, he called out his destination clearly. 

With sickening sensation, he disappeared.

~~

_August 1st 10:00 am (Britain Time – Italy is one hour ahead)_  
 _Il Drago di Dancing_

 

As he staggered out of the fireplace at _Il Drago di Dancing_ , Solace yelped as a pair of strong arms grabbed him before he could fall flat on his face. Looking up, he saw the dark amused eyes of his father. Settling back on his feet, Solace brushed the ashes and floo powder off of his shoulder before turning back to his father with a slight glower at the man’s continued amusement.

“Come, we’ll enter the shopping district through that door,” Severus said, nodding his head in the direction of the heavy oak door at the back of the room.

 _Il Drago di Dancing_ , it seemed, was a restaurant. Brightly lit with floating candles and furnished with warm, honey colored furniture it was definitely an improvement over The Leaky Cauldron. The crowd was small at the moment, one or two of the tables being completely full, and Harry was a little shocked at the differences in clothing styles than what he was used to.

“ _Il Drago di Dancing_ is in Milan,” Severus explained as they walked through the restaurant towards the large oaken door that he had pointed out a moment ago. “The Italian populace of the wizarding world is very closely tied with the muggle, and so many of the fashions are seen throughout the wizarding establishments. They don’t restrict the people by only wearing robes, instead they try to incorporate muggle fashions into their wizarding fashions.”

“Wow…I can’t believe it.” Solace said, his eyes wide as he struggled to take in everything he was seeing – and it was only one place so far! “Britain almost seems…backwards in comparison.”

“In many, if not most, ways it is. Italy has a rich wizarding history, steeped in Old Magic and customs, but they also attempt to incorporate as much of the muggle world as well. Britain has cut itself off from the world around them, stifling creativity and growth under outdated tradition and killing progress.” Severus said, reaching out to open the oaken door. “In many ways, Wizarding Britain is looked down upon by other members of the ICW – the International Confederation of Wizards which is the wizarding worlds form of the United Nations.”

“Well…that sucks,” Solace said dryly.

“That it does,” Severus said before walking them out of _Il Drago di Dancing_.

Solace gaped at the sight before him. The streets were cobblestone, but the buildings that lined both sides of the streets and walkways were built with limestone rocks in cement, but it made them appear brighter, almost blindingly so. Here and there were venders with booths that had brightly colored fabric for a roof. Each vendor was calling out the items that they sold, from jewelry to fruits and vegetables. Dimly, he could hear music and saw a group of teenagers playing guitars, a set of improvised drums and even a violin. It was bustling with music, people and wares like an old time market.

Solace fell in love with it.

“What is this place called??” Solace asked.

“Quite simply it’s called ‘The Plaza’.”

Solace blinked at Severus for a moment.

“The Plaza.”

“Yes,” Severus said with a confused look on his face.

“I was expecting something more…Italian…-ish.” Solace said.

“Oh. No, it’s just the Plaza. It’s separated into four quadrants, North End, South End, West Side and East Side.”

“Is it separated by what they sell?” Solace asked, walking on the cobblestone streets and glancing over at a booth that had a bright green roof and was selling fruits.

“For the most part, South End is full of clothing stores, North End is for businesses housing legal, realty, and the banking district. West Side houses the school district where students get most of their supplies and East Side has the majority of restaurants and food grocers.” Severus explained, glancing over at a booth that held brightly colored vegetables. “We’re in the East Side right now, we’re going to the South End.”

“So…clothes.” Solace said, and sneered slightly as he muttered, “Joy.”

“Yes, clothes. It is time you had something of your own, rather than wearing my clothes shrunken to fit.”

“I don’t truly need anything-“ Solace started and scowled at the glare that his father gave him. “Alright, fine I do need clothes. I just don’t like you having to go through all the effort.”

“It is no consequence or effort on my part, even if you get a million articles of clothing. It feeds the need within me to provide for you, when I’ve spent so much of my time belittling and ridiculing you. You need clothes, and I will provide them for you until you have your own mates.” Severus said, moving down the cobblestone street and moving to the left.

There were, literally, hundreds of people in the Plaza at that very moment. Dozens and dozens of stores and vendors lined the sidewalks, harking their wares. It was a stunning, beautiful cacophony of colors, sounds and smells. Despite having only eaten just before coming to the Plaza, Solace felt his stomach rumble at the delicious smells wafting through the air.

It was in a daze that he managed to follow behind Severus, his head whipping around with each new sound and his nose twitching at each new delectable scent.

“How many Nomarian’s are here do you think?” Solace asked, when they stepped to the side to avoid a self-driving coach.

“Not many, if any at all. Most of our kind is prepping the Gathering place for the meetings, and are away at the island. We are a small number in Italy’s population, numbering only 400 or so.” Severus said, his voice taking on a soothing tone that Solace had come to call his ‘lecture’ tone.

Better than being yelled at, most definitely.

“The shop I’m taking you to is owned by a Nomarian Appoggiare named Luigi Andreotti. He was a good friend of your mother’s, and designed most of his attire.” Severus said.

“So mother was his muse, then?” Solace asked, glancing up Severus.

“Yes, and very often if I couldn’t’ find your mother, I could find him with Luigi.” Severus said with a dry smile.

Quite suddenly they arrived at a clothier called _Per Vestire L'Anima_. The blazingly blue writing of the sign was done with a lovely flowing script, and the windows looked as if they were looking into a young lord’s sun room, rather than into the interior of the shop. Severus held the glass door open as he motioned Solace in.

As he passed over the threshold of the shop, a soft chime rippled through the air. A tall figure came from the back rooms and paused at the counter where an antique register sat, the countertop covered with fabric books and papers. The new figure was long and lanky of limb, with chin length black curls and olive toned skin. He wore black trousers with a sapphire blue tunic, with shiny black shoes. His eyes were a deep, dark brown, and they were wide as they stared at the two Nomarian’s framed in the doorway.

“Luigi.” Severus said, nodding to the other man.

Luigi Andreotti blinked in surprise before nodding at Severus.

“Severus.” Came a heavily accented reply. “I cannot believe my eyes, but I would swear that you have managed to bring Regulus back to life.”

“No, my old friend, this is our son. Solace Black, meet Luigi Andreotti designer.”

“I am hardly just a designer, Severus!” Luigi exclaimed dramatically. “I’m the finest clothier in Italy.”

“At least your ego hasn’t gotten away with you trying to claim the world any longer.” Severus said with a smirk on his face.

“I was young then,” Luigi waved his hand as if to wipe away the statement. “Now I’m more confident in my skills and soon enough the whole world will know of my genius. Plebian.”

“Diva.” Severus snort before motioning to the wide eyed Solace. “My son needs a full wardrobe, full wizarding, full muggle and full Nomarian.”

“Are you taking him to the Gathering then?” Luigi asked as he came forward and eyed Solace with a critical eye.

“He is of age, he went through his Ascension two nights ago.” Severus said and almost smiled at Luigi. “He is a Remissivo, so he must go.”

“I’ve eyes in my head, Severus,” Luigi exclaimed, motioning to Solace with expressive hands. “He’s delicate of bone and structure, unlike an Appoggiare or Dominante. It’s obvious that he is a Remissivo, do not insult my intelligence.”

Severus lifted a disbelieving eyebrow before smirking at Luigi. Luigi’s face cleared with a wide smile.

“I missed your snarkiness, Severus.” Luigi laughed and held out his hand.

“And I missed your sass.” Severus said, shaking hands with the Appoggiare.

“So your son. I know not how he has come to be, but I can see both you and Regulus within him.” Luigi said as he stared at Solace’s face. “You have your mother’s face and the shape of her eyes. As well as his delicate body, but I see your father in your jaw and hands.” Luigi reached out and grasped those hands in his larger, but long fingered ones. “Your father did the right thing in coming to me. As I adored your mother so much, I have a feeling I will adore you as well.”

Solace stammered and felt a blush on his cheeks. He was knocked off kilter again and he had only just regained his balance when Luigi pulled him into a comfy, plush blue chair and Luigi began pulling our color and pattern swatches. Severus patted the confused lad on the shoulder and put his two knuts worth whenever Luigi asked for an opinion. Colors and patterns and textures flew mostly over Solace’s head, which spun a little as Luigi’s enchanted tape measure measured just about everything. It wasn’t as rough as Madam Malkin’s tape measure, which was rather nice.

He did perk up when they started talking about the materials for the Nomarian clothing. Nomarian clothing was loosely based off of the robes of the wizarding world but made with faecloth, which was designed for those beings and creatures with wings. The backing of the robes would part to allow for wings to be free and uninhibited by clothing. It was a lighter material that shimmered even in the dimmest of lights, and flowed like water over his fingers when he touched it.

The style was a bit more ornate than regular wizarding robes, with delicate embroidery along the material. There were about three layers to the style, and looked surprisingly oriental in nature, but without the waist sash. Instead it flowed freely down the body and though Solace was a little leery about the slight train to his robes, Luigi and Severus both assured him that it was because of his status within Nomarian culture. A Remissivo wore slight trains to their robes, with ornate embroidery and jewel tone colors to signify the importance of that rank. With large open sleeves that almost covered his hands, he felt decidedly dainty in the robes when he tried one on. The shoes chosen to coordinate with the robes were also made of faecloth and leather, creating a somewhat sandal effect on his feet. The colors chosen suited Solace very well, and out of all the clothing they were purchasing, he actually couldn’t wait to wear the faecloth. 

The whole Nomarian wardrobe would be made with the faecloth and he was absolutely fascinated by the material. He couldn’t stop playing with the faecloth swatches as the other two men spoke about the Gathering. Severus was concerned that the wardrobe wouldn’t be finished by the time the Gathering.

“It will be ready within two days, Severus. In the meantime, I can send a simple traveling set to you tomorrow so that he is properly attired when he arrives to the Gathering.” Luigi said.

“Why is it that Nomarian Remissivo’s must attend, and the other don’t necessarily have to?” Solace asked.

“Many Dominante’s and Appoggiare’s of a certain age do not attend. It is not likely that new Remissivo’s will attach to an older mate.” Luigi said hesitantly.

Solace frowned.

“That’s hardly fair. At what age do most stop attending?”

“Most Dominante’s stop attending at 35, and Appoggiare’s stop attending at 40.” Severus said.

“I don’t understand why? I mean,” Solace said quickly, to defend his point of view, “I don’t understand why they lose hope by then. Are Remissivo’s so focused on age that they wouldn’t give the elder group a chance?”

“From what we gather from our culture, most often a Remissivo is simply more comfortable with someone close to their own age. Some are focused on income of their mates, on material wealth and status, others are focused on feats of strength and brawn. We live a long, long time Solace,” Severus said, glancing at Luigi who nodded. “The lifespan of a Nomarian, barring murder, severe injury and the rare debilitating illness is roughly two to three hundred years.”

“That long?” Solace said in surprise.

“With modern advancements and technology that’s been merged with magic, we actually live longer than that. The oldest Nomarian on record is now four hundred and eighty, an Appoggiare who’s Remissivo passed the year previous. We believe that he died of Broken Heart Syndrome, and followed his mate into death.” Luigi said.

“That’s insane!” Solace exclaimed.

Luigi laughed and turned back to his parchment paper that contained the full list of items that Solace needed, including the Nomarian robes, wizarding robes and muggle attire. The list was rather lengthy and detailed, but that was mostly for Luigi’s benefit so he could put the personal touches on the clothes.

“Do you have a tent already?” Luigi asked Severus as he looked up from his notes.

“Not yet. That’s our next stop, before we return home.” Severus replied, glancing at his son.

“Go to Backard and Bangles closer to the Center,” Luigi said. “They might not be as well known, but they’re the best in the business of travel. They’re fairly new, but the quality is much better than Tavard’s Tents.”

“Then that is where we’ll go.” Severus returned and smiled at his son who wasn’t paying any attention to them now, so focused was he on the faecloth samples.

There wasn’t much to do after that. They had bags of muggle clothes as well as wizarding robes just in case, and two outfits for Solace in faecloth. All of them had sizing spells woven into the seams of the clothing, but the faecloth robes weren’t quite as ornate and detailed as the ones Solace would receive tomorrow and were very simple in coloring and style.

They walked towards the Center of the Plaza, before turning into Backard and Bangles. Joseph Backard himself was manning the front end and helped them pick out a tent with the required amount of rooms and amenities. Solace thought most of them they could deal without, but it was ‘tradition’ for the Rremissivo to have lavish accommodations as well as ornate robes.

Traditions, in Solace’s point of view, were absolutely stupid. But his father looked practically giddy – as much as he could for such a severe man - over the purchases. So Solace held his tongue, and shot a flabbergasted look to Backard and shrugged when the man looked at him. 

Once the purchases were complete, Severus and Solace returned to Spinners End. A familiar sassy house elf took Solace’s magically shrunken bags and went about putting his things away while Severus ordered tea and biscuits as they waited for Christopher to arrive.

It barely took a moment after tea was served by a house elf named Tipsy when the floo flared to life and a male voice called through the room.

“Severus?”

“We’re here, Christopher. We’ve tea ready.”

Solace’s head seemed to be spinning with nerves and the tiring day that they’d had already. It wasn’t even two pm and he felt the need for a nap. Nerves ate at his stomach like piranha’s on dead flesh and he swallowed harshly.

The floo whooshed and out stepped a lovely man with burgundy colored hair that fell to his trim waist. He was obviously pregnant by the swell in his stomach and the robes he wore were made of the now familiar fae cloth in a light tan color that seemed to glimmer in the slight light of the room. Hazel-green eyes peered at Severus happily as he walked forward. When those green tinged eyes swung around to meet Solace’s light green eyes, they widened in obvious surprise.

Before he could say anything out from the floor stepped a rather tall, thin man – not a man, but rather a Nomarian in full bodied attire. Black horns swept up over the sides of his forehead and back over his head, although one horn was shorter than the other from an obvious break in the left horn. Pale strawberry blonde hair fell to his shoulders in a layered style and his wings were a pale gold color. His robes were made of the fae cloth that fascinated Solace, and they parted seamlessly to allow for the wings to have formed. Black eyes swept the room for threats before settling on Solace’s face.

“I see what you meant,” The new comer said with a surprisingly deep voice for such a lean man. “We will need all the help we can get with Christopher mentoring your son. He’s quite beautiful.”

The distant way he said it still had Solace blushing and he stammered for a moment before Severus patted his shoulder.

“He knows nothing of our culture, but he is a quick study and is very dedicated to learning all he can about this new world he found himself in.”

“I would be honored to mentor Solace, Severus,” Christopher said with a softness to his voice, and his hazel eyes were glistening and watery from tears. “We shall do everything in our power to make certain that Solace has all the tools he needs to find his way into this world.” Christopher smiled at Solace and nodded.

“Welcome to the world of the Nomarians, Solace Black. I am honored to mentor you in the place of your mother, and include you into the circle of family and close friends.”

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, this is my first creature!fic and I’m rather excited about it. I know, I should be working on Of Lion's and Lambs, but I blame StarLight_Massacre (Rise of the Drackens), vvc (Desperate Measures) and Scioneeris (There Be Dragons, Harry) for this pairing/idea, and the plotbunny just wouldn’t leave me alone. Don’t worry, however, I’m not abandoning any of my stories, merely getting this out of my head so I can concentrate. This is also unbeta’d so any mistakes are my own. Spoilers for up until HBP. Sadly, yes, this means Sirius is dead. 
> 
> One of these days I’m going to work on a story where he’s alive. Anyways. On with the show.
> 
> This is AU for Years Six and Seven. Ignore HPB and DH please, as Harry is turning 16, while Theodore Nott is 17 and Blaise is 16.


End file.
